The Kraken's Calling
by nantasyland
Summary: Takes place after Season 5, Episode 8, "The Hollow Queen." After the assassination attempt that he thwarted with Daegel's help, Merlin is certain that Arthur is in danger from his Queen. Merlin tries to tell Arthur about Gwen's enchantment. It isn't easy. Meanwhile, Morgana calls forth the kraken to demand a sacrifice: Arthur.
1. Chapter 1

Takes place after Season 5, Episode 8, "The Hollow Queen." After the assassination attempt that he thwarted with Daegel's help, Merlin is certain that Arthur is in danger from his Queen. Merlin tries to tell Arthur about Gwen's enchantment. It isn't easy. Meanwhile, Morgana calls forth the kraken to demand a sacrifice: Arthur.

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 1

With a quick glance back at her sleeping husband, Gwen quietly eases open the small door leading from their bedchamber to the servants' passageway, clutching her cloak and slippers to her chest. The stone floor is cold under her bare feet, but she doesn't want to make any noise. Soundlessly she slips from the room, gently closing the door behind her. She pauses after several steps to don her shoes and cover herself with her cloak.

She scoops up a lit candle lantern from a table in the hallway, and swiftly makes her way through the silent sleeping castle using the familiar back corridors. She climbs the circular staircases to reach the door to the upper battlements of the northernmost tower. The door is unlocked, but heavy as she pushes it open into the dark night. There, between the third and fourth crenellation, she places the lantern.

With a nod to herself, she ducks back inside, still shivering from the chill night air. Morgana will see her message when she scries Camelot that night. Tomorrow, Gwen will leave a note for Morgana under the rock at the base of the tree with the braided vine to arrange a meeting. She needs to tell Morgana that the plot to kill Arthur using the Sarum's assassin has failed. They must find another way.

xXx

"His life had only begun," Merlin murmurs to Gaius, shaking his head slowly. Merlin rises from where he had been kneeling to place a small plant near the stones marking the boy's grave. He stands silent next to Gaius for a few moments, thinking back on the young man's death. Daegel, his name was Daegel, Merlin remembers. The boy had played his part in Morgana's scheme, luring Merlin into the Valley of the Fallen Kings with a fabricated story of a sister ill with the sweating sickness. But, in the end, he repaid Merlin's kindness and helped the warlock cure himself. Ultimately that aid cost young Daegel his life.

He takes a deep breath and turns away from the grave, face grim. Merlin starts to walk away, Gaius alongside. "It can't go on, Gaius."

"Gwen?" Gaius asks, already knowing the answer.

Merlin nods, and exhales a breath, sad at the conclusion he's reached about his friend. Gwen. She is a threat to Arthur. Twice she tried to assassinate him, and this second time, Merlin was barely in time to thwart the attempt. One of the knives thrown at Merlin and the boy by the assassin killed the boy. And the assassin's crossbow bolt intended for Arthur hit the Sarum instead, when the spear thrown by Merlin's magic diverted his aim and killed him. Arthur's life was spared this time. Next time, Merlin may not be so lucky. He cannot let his happen again.

"We have to do something about her."

"Yes, but the question is: what?"

Merlin has no answer. He strides forward, limping slightly, away from Gaius, determination etched on his face. Yes. What? They don't even know what happened to her. Merlin is convinced that Morgana is behind it, that she is somehow controlling Gwen. It all started after they rescued Gwen from the Dark Tower. But had they actually rescued her?

xXx

"Still limping are you, Merlin?" Arthur stops and waits for Merlin to catch up. He was hurrying to the training field under the ramparts, with Merlin carrying his shield and accouterments for the knights' training session. Merlin had fallen behind. "How did you injure yourself, again?"

"Erm . . . I, ah, stumbled and fell down into a ravine in the forest and caught my leg on a branch."

"I don't understand how you can be so clumsy," Arthur laughs. "Were you on the way back from seeing that girl?"

"No. I wasn't." Merlin adjusts the load of armor in his arms to a more comfortable position as they walk through the gates, now side by side. His efforts to contain all the many pieces fail, and a vambrace drops with a clatter to the stone cobbles. He stoops to pick up the errant piece of armor, trying to balance the remainder on the shield. He looks up at Arthur's snort.

"Right. So you say," Arthur says, adding after a moment with a smirk. "Will the girl deny it also?"

"I keep telling you. There isn't any girl." Merlin answers without looking at Arthur as he stands up carefully, clutching at the various pieces of metal in his arms.

"So where were you?" Arthur asks with a flash of impatience. "I needed you here, what with the Sarum of Amata visiting, and where were you? You took off for days with no explanation."

"Erm . . . Gaius sent me off to find a rare herb, and I was, ah, waylaid."

"Where? In the tavern?" Arthur huffs, glancing at him impatiently. "Come on, Merlin, hurry up. I want to participate in training. Today." Arthur starts to stride away.

"Well, you could help carry some of this stuff, you know," Merlin retorts, calling after him. "Or at least wear some of it." He hurries to catch up, trying not to favor his leg.

xXx

Merlin yanks an arrow out of the target at the far end of the training field, near the entrance to the Darkling Woods. "_Don't they ever miss_?" he marvels, grateful at least that he won't have to go searching too far in the grass beyond them to recover strays. He slips the arrows into the quiver on his back and glances up at the woods, catching a glimpse of bright blue flitting between the trees. He recognizes the color. Gwen. She must have used the servants' door near the kitchens to leave the Citadel undetected. Why? Where was she going?

"Merlin!" He jumps at Arthur's shout. "Today! If you don't mind."

"Yes, Sire," he calls back. "Coming."

He finishes retrieving the rest of the bolts from the targets and trots back to the line of knights holding crossbows down as they wait. Arthur steps forward impatiently and snatches the arrows from Merlin's hands. The others crowd around, reaching out for the arrows to resume their target practice. Merlin stands in the midst of the chaos, staring into the woods, where he can no longer make out any hint of blue moving through the woods.

He finds a bench off to the side, and sits down to wait while Arthur and the knights finish their training session, picking up Arthur's sword and a polishing cloth to occupy his hands while he waits. He has a few minutes to rest before he needs to get up again, to retrieve the arrows from this round.

He knows he has to tell Arthur of his suspicions about Gwen. But that's all he has, although he's certain that something's not right. Arthur would dismiss it as one of his 'funny feelings' and would never just take his word for it. He'll need proof, clear evidence of a betrayal that Arthur couldn't deny. The scrap of cloth torn from a cloak found caught on a bush or a magical vine on a tree in the woods, aren't enough to demonstrate to the King that his Queen was not all she seemed. Arthur loved Guinevere too much to see any fault. Merlin will need to tread carefully. He worries where and when her next attempt to kill Arthur will occur. He was certain that this was her goal.

xXx

After letting herself out of the Citadel through the back door near the kitchens, Gwen walks with a swift purposeful stride into the woods, picking up her skirts and cloak from trailing in the debris littering the forest floor. She's panting lightly with the exertion when she reaches the summoning tree, with its twisted ropy vine hanging from the high branches to the ground next to the rough bark. She reaches out and touches the vine with her right hand, gently running her fingers down.

When she turns around, Morgana is standing in the nearby clearing. "Gwen," she says. "What happened?"

"He failed." Gwen says. "Arthur lives."

"I know. What happened?"

"The assassin was distracted and his shot missed. He killed the Sarum instead."

"Well, I can't say I'm sorry about that." Morgana folds her arms across her chest and hugs herself to contain a shiver. For two years, the Sarum of Amata kept her chained in the dark with Aithusa at the bottom of a pit. Aithusa's suffering was intolerable as she outgrew the size of the pit and was permanently injured and warped. If not for her own suffering, the Sarum deserved to die for the agony his imprisonment caused the growing dragon. Morgana had sworn to herself that she would make sure that the Sarum endured his own torment before he was destroyed. This was not to be, but the Sarum was dead anyway, killed by his own man's bolt. Morgana shakes her head to clear it of her memories. "Was it Merlin?"

"No, he showed up later. It was some young boy hiding in the balcony. He was killed." Gwen studies Morgana. "I thought you poisoned Merlin. How did he survive?"

"I don't know. That boy is resilient. And a continual thorn in my side."

"He suspects me, you know," Gwen says. "He knows I lied to Arthur about his absence from Camelot."

"So, we must find some other way to rid the kingdom of this Pendragon."

"And Merlin?"

"Yes. Together. How fitting. Troubles that will take them unprotected by the knights to the south this time, perhaps?" Morgana smiles. "Rest easy, Gwen. It will be soon. We'll speak again." Gwen returns the smile, and, wrapping her blue cloak around her tightly against the chill air, she turns away and heads back to the castle.

xXx

At Arthur's signal, Merlin shoulders the quiver with the arrows he's gathered and trots back to where the knights and squires have gathered to listen to the King's instructions. Arthur prides himself in the training he and the senior knights give to the young knights and squires, using every opportunity to allow them to demonstrate their skills. He's particularly interested in his cousin, young Aurelius, and the two Orkney twins. They've been squires for a number of years, and are eager to be elevated to the status of Knights of Camelot. He wants to decide today whether to offer them the chance to face him in one-to-one combat as a final test.

"Percival, you and Gwaine lead the teams through their footwork drills," Arthur concludes. "Leon, on me."

Percival opens his mouth to shout for the squires to follow him when he's caught by a heavy sneeze. He shakes his head to clear it. "Sorry," he says to none and all. He gives his orders and the squires line up to move through their positions as he calls the steps.

At the King's summons, Leon joins Arthur at the sidelines to watch as the young squires move through their drills. Arthur stands easy, feet wide apart, his sword point resting on the ground between them. Merlin drops the quiver on the bench nearby, and walks around the field where the men had been standing to practice their archery skills and picks up the abandoned bows. He makes several trips back and forth to the small bench, half listening to Arthur and Leon's conversation.

"Sire?" Leon says.

"Do you think they're ready yet?" Arthur asks, pointing to the three young men with his sword.

Leon knows who he is referring to without further indication. They've discussed the young men's progress many times in the past few months. "Aurelius has been ready for quite some time."

"And the Orkney brothers?" Arthur prompts. Merlin freezes in place as he passes behind the two other men. He stiffens at the name he hears. Leon glances over to him, and gives him a faint nod of understanding. Merlin moves away again to complete his chore.

"No. They are fierce and fearless in combat, but . . ." Leon pauses, reluctant to say more. The twins, Gareth and Gaheris, are the sons of King Lothian of Orkney, a loyal ally to Camelot. When they first became squires, they had accused Merlin of the theft of their father's dagger.* Merlin had been severely punished for the theft by Uther, and for some reason, the twins still bore a grudge against Merlin. Leon was certain that their accusation was falsely made, but he had no proof of it. Merlin never said anything, and Arthur knew nothing about it. Since then, Leon has also observed other lapses in judgment by the twins and a vindictively cruel streak that Leon felt inappropriate for a knight.

Arthur continues to watch the drills for a moment before turning to glance at Leon with his eyebrow raised and gestures with a free hand with his palm open. "Go on."

"Well, I think that they need to demonstrate a greater strength of character in addition to their fighting skills."

"What makes you say that?" Arthur senses that there is something specific behind Leon's hesitation, and wants to understand it.

"I can't say, Sire."

Arthur sniffs impatiently. "There must be some reason, Leon."

"Let's just give them more time; perhaps they merely need to mature."

"Very well. Let Aurelius know he'll face me in the morning for his final test in single combat."

Leon smiles and bows; his squire will be pleased. Arthur wheels around, ready to return to the Citadel for a council meeting. "Merlin!" he shouts as he strides off the field.

xXx

"Arise, Sir Aurelius, son of King Ambrosius, Knight of Camelot!" Arthur's voice rings out with pride at his young cousin's investiture as a knight.

Aurelius had easily passed his final test of free combat for one minute against Arthur himself and acquitted himself well in his victory. At Arthur's words, Aurelius stands and turns to face the crowd in the throne room, his new red cape swirling around him. He smiles broadly acknowledging the cheers of the other knights and courtiers gathered to celebrate. He's surrounded immediately by his new comrades who reach for his hand to shake or pound on his back in hearty congratulations. All but the Orkney twins, that is.

Gareth and Gaheris, the Orkney twins, were passed over for consideration to be elevated to knighthood. They hang back from the crowd congratulating and praising Aurelius, conversing quietly with each other near an arras against the wall opposite the windows in the great hall.

"We should have been up there, too." Gaheris hisses at his brother. "Someone spoke against us."

"It was that Merlin, I know it," Gareth mutters. "He has the King's ear."

"I saw Arthur conversing with Sir Leon the other day as they watched us spar. Merlin was nearby," Gaheris mentions.

"He's always nearby. You can't get near the King without tripping over Merlin first."

"Arthur's never hinted that he knows what happened with father's knife. Maybe he doesn't know about our involvement." Gaheris looks around the hall and sees Merlin walking quickly beneath the windows to reach Arthur.

"Of course he knows. Leon knows, doesn't he?"

"He suspects. He has no proof." Gaheris pauses. "You're right, Merlin must have complained about us, and the King deliberately passed us over. But we're ready. We've been ready."

"And we should have been knighted today as well." Gareth glares in Merlin's direction, seeing him reach Arthur's side, and Arthur's nod to his manservant before both men leave the throne room by the back door, side by side. "It's his fault."

Gareth looks back at his brother, who nods his head in agreement. "He'll pay for this."

*A/N: See "The Squires' Revenge" by Nantasyland for the backstory.


	2. Chapter 2

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 2

Weeks have passed since Gaius and Merlin buried the boy, Daegal, in the Darkling Woods. Merlin was still limping at the time, from the injury in his leg, caused by Morgana's push over the cliff edge into the ravine. He's almost fully healed now, and with the passage of time, even Arthur has abandoned his teasing about the girl that Guinevere told him Merlin had been visiting. Merlin still hasn't found a way to tell Arthur the truth about Gwen's enchantment. He doesn't even know what caused it, and certainly not how to cure it.

At this moment, Merlin knows that Arthur is in the throne room, hearing petitions of the people to their King, so he's certain that Geoffrey of Monmouth would be sitting at his little table with his ink well and parchments, taking notes of the proceedings. Merlin has made his way to the library to take advantage of Geoffrey's absence to search for the secreted magical books. He reaches out his hand and with a blink of golden eyes opens the locked doors.

It's dim and still; the thin autumn light slanting through the vibrant checked windows provides just enough illumination to see by. The accumulated dust of the ages contained in the books assails his nose, and he sneezes noisily. Without lighting a candle, he walks quickly through the stacks of books towering to the ceiling to the secret chamber hidden in the aisle where he'd found that Bestiary book. He swings the concealed door open and steps inside into the small dark room. As the door slips closed behind him, Merlin ignites the candles in the holders scattered about. The features of the room spring into view when the room is lit.

Merlin's looking for an ancient tome with dark magic spells, rituals that Gaius thinks may be buried in the books in the secret chamber. Gaius didn't have a name or description, only a memory of hearing about certain rites practiced by the high priestesses of the old religion when he was a young boy. He wasn't privy to the practices as a male child, but Gaius told Merlin that he suspects that Morgana may have subjected Gwen to a ritual used against their enemies to subjugate their will.

This room contains powerful magic, Merlin knows from experience. Merlin remembers how he'd found the goblin here locked away in an old chest, smiling involuntarily at his recollection of the comical havoc releasing the goblin had caused. As funny as some it may have been, he's glad the goblin is safely imprisoned back in his box, deep in Camelot's vaults. Since then, Merlin has discovered many magical texts that had been saved by unknown hands from destruction during the great purge, though he's never discussed this with Geoffrey of Monmouth. Over the years, Merlin has found solace in the books hidden here and spent many hours in awe-filled study. Now, he stands in the center of the room and slowly turns, scanning with his eyes and reaching out with his magic for hints of darkness. He pulls down a few volumes to read, but then hears a sound from the main part of the library. Quickly, he douses the candles, and leaves the secret room, taking the books with him, hidden under his jacket.

"Can I help you?" Geoffrey's voice startles Merlin as he turns the corner into the main aisle of the library, nearly knocking into the old man.

"No . . . erm. Thanks. I'm good." He scuttles past around Geoffrey to the exit and head back to the safety of Gaius's chambers.

Night is falling as Merlin hurries across the courtyard to Gaius's chambers to drop off the books he'd found in the library before he has to attend Arthur to prepare for the evening. The days are getting noticeably shorter, and the nights cooler. In a month it will be Samhain, and the long dark winter will start in earnest. Sir Lionel, the chamberlain of the castle, has been laying down stores and supplies to ready the castle and its inhabitants. All of the servants, including Merlin, had been pressed into service in fetching and carrying boxes and bags of winter gear and bedding.

The Kingdom had been blessed with a bountiful harvest this year, and the granaries and storerooms were full and ready to feed a multitude. The kitchens are busy stewing and preserving fruits and vegetables to be stored away. Merlin's had to scramble to fetch Arthur's meals with all kitchen hands busy and short-tempered. But the smells have been heavenly.

Hunting parties went out daily for game to be dried and salted to store away. Merlin groans to himself when he remembers that Arthur plans to hunt the next day; he'll face another long day in the saddle trailing after the hunting party. He hates hunting.

A messenger on horseback races into the courtyard at a full gallop, heading toward the main staircase. Seeing Merlin paused nearby, he reins up and pants out, "Sir Leon. I'm looking for Sir Leon. It's urgent."

"Try the armory," Merlin says, pointing back to the doorway near the entrance to the courtyard.

The horseman nods his thanks, wheeling the horse around to trot back to find the door that Merlin indicated. Merlin watches him as he jumps off his horse, tying the reins to a nearby post. The man had appeared exhausted and anxious, almost desperate to find Leon. Merlin recognizes the livery of a man from Leon's family demesne. Something's going on.

Merlin shakes his head in dismissal, remembering his own tasks. He swiftly mounts the steps from the door in the corner of the portico that lead to the physician's quarters, pausing with his hand on the door handle when he hears voices behind the closed door. He knocks. Hearing Gaius's voice call out, "Merlin?"

Merlin opens the door and steps inside, seeing Percival the image of misery slumping on a stool near the cook-fire. Gaius is standing at his workbench stirring the contents of a small beaker bubbling vigorously over a small flame. He crumbles a few dried herbs into the mixture. The aroma of the elderberry infusion fills the room.

"Yeah, it's me." Merlin crosses to a table on the other side of the room, slipping the books he's carrying underneath a stack of parchments. "What's wrong, Percival?"

"A fever," answers Gaius, glancing at Percival with sympathy. Percival merely groans, and leans over, holding his head. "This may take a while to finish, Percival," he says to the ailing man. "Go back to your chambers; Merlin will drop it off to you later, and bring you some broth, if you feel up to eating anything. You'll need to stay abed for the next fortnight." Percival sneezes in response.

"Do you need some help to walk there?" Merlin offers. "I'm heading back to the Citadel to Arthur's chambers." He reaches out to take the larger man's arm to help him up off the stool.

"I can't be ill. Just give me something to keep going." Percival shrugs off Merlin's hand, and tries to stand, swaying. He sits back down immediately. "Oh."

Merlin looks over to Gaius, who shrugs. "Okay. Just let me help you for a minute." He waits until Percival gives a nod of assent, then reaches out again. This time, Percival accepts his help, and leans on Merlin's slighter frame to walk out of the room.

xXx

"Where've you been hiding, Merlin?" Arthur turns from the window where he had been staring out over the now torch-lit courtyard, raising an eyebrow at his manservant just entering his chambers. The room is dark, barely illuminated by the fading light in the sky, and the single candelabra burning on the table.

Merlin steps immediately to the fireplace and kneels down to get a fire going. "We're starting to feel a chill in the evenings already," he says, ignoring Arthur's question.

"Merlin?" Annoyance fills the tone of Arthur's voice.

"Percival caught a chill or a fever or something. I had to help him to his room." Merlin strikes the flint and ignites the kindling. He blows on the small flame gently. "He'll be out for a couple of weeks, Gaius thinks."

"Too bad. We were going hunting tomorrow." Arthur leaves his spot by the window, and takes a seat at the table, reaching for the carafe of watered wine that had been left there. He pours himself a goblet.

"Does that mean we're not going?" Merlin asks, looking up at Arthur, hoping for an affirmative. His hopes are dashed when Arthur looks at him like he's gone daft. Merlin turns back to the fireplace and feeds some more pieces of wood to the growing fire.

"No, Merlin. You're still going." He takes a drink, and holds the goblet in his hand, gesturing to the table. "The Queen and I will dine here privately this evening, when she returns."

Satisfied the fire will stay lit, Merlin places a couple of logs on top of the pile of burning kindling. A sharp rap on the door brings him to his feet in a smooth movement. One of the guards opens the door and leans in. "Sire, Sir Leon asks permission to enter."

"Leon, come in!" Arthur calls out, smiling to see his first knight. "Take a seat, have some wine," he adds with a welcoming gesture with his free hand. Merlin moves around the room with a lighted taper, igniting the rest of the candles scattered around the room.

Leon steps up to the table to face Arthur, but doesn't sit. Merlin listens as he works silently.

"Sire." Leon takes a deep breath. "I must leave Camelot for a few weeks," he blurts out.

"What's going on?" Arthur asks.

"An emergency at my family home. I must go immediately." Leon looks distraught.

"What is it?" Arthur is concerned. "Can we help? Sit, please Leon."

"Thank you, Sire. But I will go alone with my father's man. I will leave at first light. I just wanted you to inform you of my plans."


	3. Chapter 3

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 3

The ancient hall is ill lit and cold, despite the large braziers that stand between the ivy draped columns. The castle, situated just over the northern border with Camelot where the perilous lands begin, had long been abandoned before being claimed by Morgana as her own base. From here she can easily travel to the Citadel in Camelot to speak to Gwen, and scry to follow events. She's seated on the imposing chair at the head of the long room listening to Ceawlin, one of her Saxon allies and his second-in-command, Beroun, as they describes the siege that he has undertaken of the stronghold of Doerham in Alined's Kingdom.

"You understand what must be done, Ceawlin?" she asks. "You must make sure that the castle is taken before Arthur and his army arrive to assist Alined."

"It should be. The siege is underway, and construction of the siege engines almost done. Once they're deployed, the keep will be defenseless."

"Good. Then your army can face Arthur and defeat him." Morgana point her finger at the Saxons standing before her. "He must not survive that battle. Do you understand?"

xXx

After the long day, Merlin drags himself back to Gaius's chambers, looking forward to finding his bed and rest before tomorrow's hunt. He pauses briefly at the door before entering quietly, half expecting Gaius to be asleep already. But the room is brightly lit, with a strong fire burning in the cooking area warming the chill stones. The door creaks a bit as it swings open, and Merlin slips into the room.

Gaius sits in the wooden armchair with his feet resting comfortably on a stool near the cook-fire, absorbed in one of the books that Merlin had found earlier in the hidden library. As the sound of the door opening fully, he looks up to smile at Merlin.

"How's Percival?" Gaius asks, ever the careful physician.

Merlin crosses the room to take a goblet of water before he answers. "He's resting now. The elixir helped, and the poultice is easing the muscle soreness." Gaius feels a surge of pride at Merlin's care for his patient; his ward has become a skilled healer in his own right. "Can you stop there tomorrow? I have to leave with Arthur at dawn to go hunting all day."

Merlin looks hopefully at the pot hanging over the cook-fire. "Anything to eat? I didn't have time."

"Of course, my boy. I've saved some for you."

Merlin grabs a bowl and spoon from the cupboard and serves himself some of the pottage from the small cauldron, sinking gratefully down onto the bench near the table. "Find anything useful?" he asks, swallowing a mouthful and gesturing with his spoon at the book Gaius is holding.

"Fascinating reading, but no help on how to free Gwen's will. Not yet." Gaius shakes his head.

Merlin slumps forward in his chair, his meal forgotten. He sets the bowl on the table. "How can we fix this if we don't know what happened?" he says.

"Maybe I can get Gwen to talk about her ordeal?" Gaius suggests. "Perhaps then she'll give me a clue."

"She's too cagey these days to reveal anything." Merlin puts his elbows on the table, and holds his head in his hands. "Was it Morgana's doing, do you think?"

"Must have been." Gaius stands carefully, pressing hard on the arms of the chair to lever himself up. He puts the book on his desk, and covers it with parchments. He steps over to the wood basket and retrieves a log to toss onto the fire. "Who else would have the power and the wish to harm Arthur?"

"She was certainly determined to get me out of the way when she had that boy Daegel lure me into the Valley so she could poison me," Merlin muses. "What can we do, Gaius?" Merlin watches the old man take his seat again, trying to ease the stress on his knees. "You have to find a cure."

"And you have to tell him, Merlin."

"Yes, but how?" Merlin agonizes. "He loves her and trusts her beyond reason. He'll never believe me."

"He needs to know. She's a threat to him." Merlin lowers his arms to the table, and places his head on them, overcome by weariness.

xXx

Merlin balances the heavy tray on his hip as he reaches out to open the door to Arthur's chambers. He'd stopped by the kitchens for Arthur's breakfast and some food for the day of hunting in the still dark pre dawn cool. Seeing no one around, he blinks a few candles alight to illuminate the way across the room to the table to set down the tray of food, but still nearly trips on the pack that Arthur had left on the floor near the door. He stumbles a bit on the last few steps clattering the plates on the tray when his own pack slips off his shoulder to lodge in the crook of his elbow. He hears a small groan from the bed caused by the unexpected noise. Once the tray is safely settled on the table next to his pack, he turns to the bed. Now for the hard part: getting Arthur up. Arthur had wanted to leave at dawn, so Merlin has to wake him in the dark to make ready for the hunt.

As he walks to the window, glancing at the bed to make sure Arthur's still asleep, he lights more candles in the room with a quick wave of his hand. The he pulls the curtains wide and opens the window to allow the pre-dawn bird song on the chill morning breeze to enter the chambers. It's still dark outside. Arthur grumbles in his half-sleep, pulling his covers more securely over his head.

"No you don't," Merlin laughs, grabbing the covers and pulling them down. "Time to get up."

Arthur protests and pulls his arm over his eyes. "Too early," he mutters. "It's still yesterday."

"That doesn't even make sense." Merlin shakes Arthur's shoulder. "Up. Hunting. You love hunting." He steps behind the changing screen and blinks his eyes at the pitcher of water on the stand to heat it, then pouring some hot water into the basin. "The water's still hot." He moistens a cloth, and drops it on Arthur's arm still held over his eyes. "See?"

Arthur grabs the cloth, and sits up, balling it in his hand. He tosses it toward the clothes cupboard, catching Merlin on the back of his neck. "Ha! See yourself." Arthur stands up next to his bed, still grinning at Merlin's discomfiture as the cooling water drips down his neck.

Merlin turns and glares at Arthur's smirk, a blue tunic in his hand, which he tosses onto the bed as he crosses back to the table. Arthur picks up the tunic and rises on his toes next to his bed, reaching his arms to the ceiling in a groaning stretch. He takes the tunic with him behind the changing screen to wash and dress.

Merlin stands at the table, wrapping up some food for the day to add to his pack of supplies when Arthur emerges from behind the screen, lacing up his tunic. Merlin holds out his brown leather vest for him to slip on, and he sits at the table grabbing a hunk of bread.

Merlin takes a seat at the table, and Arthur quirks an eyebrow at him. "Arthur," Merlin says quietly, unsmiling. "I need to talk to you."

"You trying to get out of hunting, Merlin?" Arthur smirks.

"No. Listen to me, please, Sire. This is important."

"Sounds serious," Arthur says, spearing a piece of cheese and popping it in his mouth.

"Yes, Sire. It is." Merlin nods vigorously, watching Arthur eat.

"So, what's it about?"

Merlin shifts in his chair uncomfortably, leaning forward, trying to catch Arthur's eye. "It's about Gwen. You need to know . . ."

"Guinevere?" Arthur interrupts, with a puzzled look on his face.

"Yes, Arthur?" Gwen's voice startles Merlin as she steps into the room behind him, coming to stand next to Arthur's chair. "Good morning." She leans over and puts her lips to his forehead looking for all the world like a fond kiss.

"You're up early." He reaches up to put an arm around her waist, smiling up at her. "I stayed here last night so I wouldn't disturb you when I got up so early this morning."

"Ah, but I wanted to wish you a successful hunt today." She smiles down at Arthur, before looking pointedly at Merlin, who had risen to his feet when she entered the room. "What was it you wanted to say, Merlin?"

"Nothing, my Lady." He shakes his head.

xXx

They've been hunting in the forest for hours. Even Merlin has found pleasure in the sunshine and crisp fall air, as they ride through the trees, ablaze with color. After a quick bite to eat, they are tracking a boar on foot. Merlin is walking out in front of Arthur and Gwaine who are moving slowly crossbows at the ready. Arthur had sent him forward to try to attract the attention of the wild boar he'd spotted earlier. Merlin steps carefully through the underbrush, beating the ground with a long stick.

"Why am I doing this, again?"

"Stop whining, Merlin," Arthur says. "We need you to entice the boar to move toward us."

"And that'll end well for me, exactly how, when the boar charges at me?"

Just as Merlin starts to think how useless this action is, the shrubbery nearby explodes, and the boar charges out towards them. Gwaine's shot goes wild, but Arthur's bolt hits home and the boar staggers to a halt with a roar. The two men turn away to reload for another hit, and don't notice that the boar has recovered from the first bolt and pounds forward relentlessly. Arthur is in imminent danger.

Merlin steps directly in front of the King, quickly positioning himself to stop the boar in his tracks to save Arthur's life, in the only way he can. He must. He takes a deep breath and raises his hand straight out, fingers splayed.

"Merlin!" Gwaine yells, glancing around at the sound behind him. "What the hell are you doing?"


	4. Chapter 4

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 4

"Morgana?" Gwen calls out as she leaves the meadow and enters the Darkling Woods, the fallen leaves crackling underfoot. She'd made her way to the door near the kitchens through the servants passageways, disguised under her blue cloak. The wind catches under the hood and blows it back from her head, ruffling her hair. She glances up at the clouds chasing across the sky, to feel the warmth of the afternoon sun on her face in the midst of the chill of the wind. Winter's coming; she can feel the change in the air with the wind coming in from the north.

"My Lady." Morgana's voice brings her attention back to earth. "What news?"

"Leon left Camelot to travel to his ancestral home for some family emergency, and Percival has fallen ill. Poor dear Arthur is so concerned for everyone."

"Ah. So far so good." Morgana looks pleased.

"Is this your doing? Taking out his knights?" Gwen asks. "You're isolating him, aren't you?"

"They can't protect him if they're not with him," Morgana laughs. "Gwaine's the last. Unfortunately, he'll be injured while hunting." Gwen looks surprised; Arthur and Gwaine had just left that morning and hadn't returned yet. "Now we can set the plan in motion."

The two women step over to a fallen log, and sit companionably in the weak sunshine. "What do you need me to do?"

"You are to discourage him from going to King Alined's aid, but unsuccessfully. He must leave Camelot to travel to the south, but you must be above suspicion." Gwen looks puzzled.

"Alined? What do you mean?"

Morgana nods to herself. "Do you remember Trickler? He was King Alined's jester when the five Kings met with Uther to negotiate a peace treaty years ago." At Gwen's nod, Morgana continues, "he's on his way here with a distressing message from King Alined. He is under siege at Doerham by the Saxon invaders and is asking for help from his longstanding ally."

"That would require an army," Gwen points out. "He'll have all the protection he'll need."

"Ah yes, Arthur will lead an army south to Alined's Kingdom. But too late to save Doerham, alas. He'll face the Saxons all on his own, with none of his trusted Knights of Camelot to support him. He'll fall in battle."

"Don't underestimate him. If nothing else, Arthur's a great warrior."

Morgana sniffs in disdain. "Yes. But even if he manages to prevail with another glorious victory as the great warrior King, he'll get an invitation from a cousin he's never met that he'll find irresistible."

Gwen raises her eyebrows in a question, but Morgana forestalls her inquiry with a raised hand. "He'll send his army home, and go off on a lonely quest to find his mother. We'll find a way to end his quest when he's alone and far from Camelot."

xXx

"Merlin! What the hell? Get out of the way!" With a yell Gwaine slams into Merlin knocking him off his feet just as he's raising his hand to stop the wild boar's charge. Gwaine's sudden movement has attracted the boar, which rushes toward him with an angry growl, the sharp tusks at his open mouth catching Gwaine on the leg. The boar races past, wheels around, and readies to attack again. Arthur's second bolt hits it in the neck this time, and the animal drives forward a few more steps, then suddenly collapses to the ground, dead. From his position on the ground where he had fallen when Gwaine had shoved him aside, Merlin lowers his arm and his eyes fade from bright gold to their normal blue.

Without sparing Merlin a glance, Arthur races over to Gwaine, who is yelling, "Merlin, what the hell were you thinking? Were you going to halt the beast in its tracks with your hand up to signal it to stop?"

"Gwaine, lie back, you fool. You're injured." Arthur crouches near the injured man. "Merlin, get over here!" he shouts.

Merlin was already on his feet moving quickly to his horse for his pack with his medical supplies. He grabs it and runs back to where Gwaine lies on the ground, his leg bleeding from his wound. He kneels at Gwaine's side, ripping his own tunic to use as a makeshift bandage, before rummaging in his pack to retrieve a small vial of comfrey oil. He takes out his pocketknife to cut Gwaine's breeches around the injury, and pours water from the water skin onto the wound; Gwaine winces in pain, biting his lip. Merlin uses a clean bandage from his pack to daub at the slash and absorb the blood, then drizzles some oil carefully into the injury covering it with a clean bandage, and quickly securing it in place with the strip he's torn from the fabric of his tunic.

Merlin sits back on his heels, putting his pocketknife away in his boot. "We have to get him to Gaius," he says to Arthur. "This will only hold him for a short while."

"Gwaine, can you ride?" Arthur asks him.

He gives an assenting grunt, "if you help me mount, I'll manage."

xXx

As the three hunters pass through the gatehouse entry to the courtyard, Arthur calls to the guards to get help for Gwaine. They continue on at a slow walk up to the portico leading to Gaius's chambers. Merlin dismounts, leaving Cora to stand and wait, and rushes to Gwaine's horse. A few guards reach them, and he instructs them to take the injured man directly up to Gaius. Merlin runs ahead up the stairs to lead the way.

One of the guards addresses Arthur. "Sire. A messenger arrived while you were away. From King Alined."

"Where is he now?" Arthur asks as he leaps down from his horse, tossing the reins to the groom.

"In the guardhouse."

"Bring him to the Privy Council room." Arthur starts to ascend the staircase, and pauses mid-way, looking back at the guard. "And ask Sir Geoffrey and Sir Lionel to join me," he adds.

_"__What could Alined want_?" he wonders, continuing his climb to the Citadel's main doors. It's been years since he's heard from him, apart from the ceremonial annual greetings they exchange. He never really trusted Alined since that meeting with the five kings to forge the terms of the now long-standing treaty. He had felt at the time that Alined really didn't want peace and had somehow tried to undermine the negotiations. But the treaty has held, with all participants, including Alined, abiding by its terms. Something must have happened.

He feels a chill breeze and glances up at the sky before entering the Citadel, trying to gauge the time. From the position of the sun, it looks like late afternoon already. They days are definitely getting shorter, he muses. Almost too late in the year to travel.

xXx

The two guards standing on either side of the open council room doors give Merlin barely a glance as he slips inside the room and makes his way down the side unobtrusively as possible. He takes his favorite spot as close as he can get to Arthur, under the window near a pillar to watch the proceedings. At the news that the King had returned and was granting an audience to a messenger from Alined's Kingdom, the knights and courtiers had gathered in the Privy Council room. Arthur is on his feet, standing in front of the thrones where Guinevere is seated holding a parchment in his hands, while Geoffrey sits at a small table at the side scribing the events. Sir Lionel stands nearby, frowning as he listened to the King's questions and the responses.

The messenger standing before the King in the center of the room is Trickler. Merlin recognizes him immediately. He always knew that Trickler was more than a mere jester; Trickler had magic and had used it in Camelot when he was here last with King Alined. "_What's he up to now_?" Merlin wonders. He glances up at Arthur to gauge his expression in reaction to what Trickler is saying. Arthur looks troubled, but is listening attentively.

"The Saxon's siege Doerham has gone on for a month." Trickler says this as if he'd been repeating it too many times to count.

"How did you manage to get through?"

"I made my way out through a hidden tunnel that led to the woods where Ceawlin's forces were thinnest."

"Ceawlin?" Arthur asks. "I've heard this name."

"Yes. He's the Saxon commander. A man named Beroun is his second in command apparently. He's the one to be wary of."

"I've heard of these men, Sire," Geoffrey speaks up. Arthur glances at him, and gestures with his hand to continue. "In my correspondence with the other costal Kingdoms. They've led raids and have been striking terror in villages to the south and east."

"This is not a small village they've attacked." Arthur presses his lips together in a tight line as he considers the invaders' audacity. "What have they demanded?"

"Complete surrender." The room is silent. All eyes are on the King as he paces back and forth, head bent, deep in thought. Trickler takes a deep breath, and continues speaking. "King Alined needs your help now to rout them, Your Highness. Our supplies are running short. The castle cannot hold too much longer, and we'll certainly not last the winter."

Arthur knows that Alined's Kingdom to the southwest was in a strategic location for the protection of Camelot from Saxon invaders from the sea. Uther had recognized its importance as well when he negotiated the original treaty among the five kings. Now Alined was invoking the terms of that treaty, seeking Camelot's aid in repelling the invaders. Arthur didn't see that he had any choice in the matter. Camelot will have to send a force to break the Saxon siege of Doerham. He wishes Leon were here. Leon's rock steady demeanor and strong leadership skills were sorely needed to mobilize an army on such short notice. He sighs inwardly, and scans the faces of the knights listening attentively in the hall. Sir Bedwir was next in the line of command with Percival ill and Gwaine injured; there was no one else. The timing of all of these events was truly unfortunate. He needed the men he could trust.

Arthur nods to himself, and says, "I will lead our army to Doerham."

"Arthur, must you go?" Guinevere speaks up for the first time since the audience began.

He looks back at her fondly, and shakes his head. "The army needs a strong leader. I must go."

She smiles at him in response. "I understand."

"Thank you, Your Highness." Trickler bows elaborately.

Arthur nods to Geoffrey and then immediately starts issuing commands. "Sir Lionel, can you work with Sir Bedwir to provision the men to march in four days' time? Both of you stay at the conclusion of court."

Geoffrey rises at Arthur's clear signal to conclude the audience and starts gathering his parchments together. The members of the court start drifting out of the room, to return to their own more mundane activities of daily life at the castle.

Lionel and Bedwir wait silently for the king, near Geoffrey. Guinevere rises from her chair to approach her husband. He pulls her near and takes her hand. Solemnly he reaches into his tunic and withdraws a leather thong, which is threaded through a heavy gold ring. He pulls it over his head with his free hand, and places it in Guinevere's hand.

He looks steadily at the men gathered around. "All witness. Guinevere has the royal seal, and my complete trust to rule the kingdom in my absence." He gently closes her fingers over the heavy ring. She smiles up at him, and places her other hand over his.

From his position near the column, Merlin watches silently, minutely shaking his head, his mouth in a grim line. He lowers his head, then walks to the front of the room to wait for Arthur.


	5. Chapter 5

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 5

The rains started the day after the army left Camelot. Merlin sits astride his horse in misery. He's wet and cold despite the hooded cloak he's pulled around himself. He knows the others fare no better, and particularly feels sorry for the foot soldiers.

It took Sir Lionel and Sir Bedwir fewer days than Arthur had anticipated to assemble and provision the army of sufficient force to make the journey south to Doerham in Alined's Kingdom to help break the siege. Sir Mordred and the new Sir Aurelius worked closely with Sir Bedwir in the preparations for the journey, and had been pleased that the King included them in his entourage of Knights of Camelot. The Orkney twins, Gareth and Gaheris, were pressed into service as squires for the Knights, and had been busy checking, assembling and cleaning the armaments and armor. Merlin was everyone's dogsbody, running errands, gathering supplies and packing the wagons. Arthur was impatient to be on their way, and pressed everyone into helping Lionel and Bedwir organize the army and its supplies.

Merlin had tried to convince Arthur not to lead the army to assist Alined to fend off the Saxon attack, arguing that Arthur was needed in Camelot. But Arthur had been adamant: he was needed with the army since his most trusted knights could not make the journey. Their conversation had been too public for Merlin to raise his doubts about Gwen to Arthur. He'd have to wait for better opportunity.

Trickler had traveled on ahead to inform Alined that help was coming and to prepare to counter attack when the Camelot forces engage the Saxon invaders from the rear. But this help was going slowly. An army of horse and foot, even a small one such as this, does not move with great speed. It grinds at a slow pace through the countryside. And the rains slowed progress even further. They are traveling directly south, a few miles east of the shore of the great Lake of Sabrynn. The lake, several miles long, formed a natural boundary between Alined's kingdom and Camelot.

After five solid days of steady, relentless rain, the ground underfoot was a sea of mud, churned into a slippery morass by the horses' hooves and pounding boots of the foot soldiers. As the day starts to wane, Arthur finally calls a halt to the column to make camp for the night. Merlin slows his horse and pulls up next to Arthur and ventures a peek out from under his hood. He's relieved to see that the rain had let up and the clouds were starting to break up. He glances to the west and realizes that the sky is clearing. It's going to be a glorious sunset. He allows himself a smile.

The men driving the supply wagons pull up and situate the wagons off to the side, quickly leaving their positions to unload and start preparations for a meal for all and the sleeping arrangements for the night. Cooking fires are the first priority, and the knights direct the servants to find water and to help unload the supply wagons for tents and cooking utensils. Several quickly head off into the woods with pails to be filled with water at the nearby fast flowing stream.

"Merlin," Arthur says, "set up my tent under that tree. It looks relatively dry." Arthur walks over to speak to Bedwir, who is carrying the maps. He intends to send Mordred and Aurelius forward as scouts during the night to locate the Saxon forces and plan their attack. He has no doubt that Ceawlin, the Saxon leader, knows that they are approaching. It's impossible to hide the presence of such a large army advancing. He wants to prepare the knights and soldiers for a likely engagement on the morrow.

Merlin is kept busy with arranging for Arthur's accommodations and helping the other servants that he never does see the sunset. It's full dark by the time he can sit down to have something to eat and rest.

xXx

"Merlin, wake up!" Merlin hears a hissing whisper as a gloved hand closes over his mouth. He opens his eyes to see Gaheris leaning over him, Gareth standing next to him. He'd been sleeping soundly wrapped in his blanket on his still slightly damp cloak covering a pallet on the ground outside Arthur's tent. Merlin grabs the wrist and hand, pulling at it, trying to remove it from his mouth. Gaheris holds firm and doesn't let him go. Merlin raises his eyebrows in a question, glancing from one twin to the other.

Gareth says in a near whisper, "Arthur's been injured. He needs you."

Merlin struggles behind the hand covering his mouth, eyes wide.

"He went down that path." Gareth gestures behind him, indicating a faint trail through the trees.

Merlin's eyes look in the direction that Gareth is pointing. Gaheris lifts his hand and holds his index finger to his mouth. "What happened? It's not even dawn yet," Merlin says in a low voice.

"You just need to follow him." Gareth points again.

"We'll likely attack the Saxons later and he wants to be prepared. Go quietly," Gaheris warns, "the Saxons have spies nearby."

Merlin scrubs his hand over his face trying to wake up as he sits up, setting his blanket aside. He takes his cloak and pulls it on over his shoulders to try to keep warm in the chill morning air. Gareth's hand grabs him and pulls him to his feet. The night is clear, the cloud cover they've had the past few days has blown off, leaving a brilliant panoply of stars glimmering above. He takes a step toward Arthur's tent, but Gaheris gives him a small push in the direction Gareth had indicated earlier. "Hurry! He needs you."

Merlin grabs his medicine bag and stumbles away from the campsite to follow the path deeper into the woods. He's barely into the woods when he looks back to the tent. Gareth makes a shooing motion with his hands, so Merlin turns back around to walk forward into the forest. He continues down the trail trying to see the path ahead with his magic for several minutes, but not finding Arthur. He calls out softly, "Arthur? Where are you?"

A sudden blow to the back of his head catches him unaware, and he crashes to his knees and falls over, unconscious.

"Gag him and tie his hands," a Saxon soldier says. "We'll take him to Ceawlin. He'll get this boy to talk and tell us all we need to know." He whistles for his horse.

xXx

The day dawns clear and cool, Arthur stretches as he strides out of his tent to the pallet on the ground where he knows Merlin would have gone to sleep. A blanket is in a jumble, but the pallet is empty. The fire Merlin had set the night before is cold and dead. He looks around for a few minutes, and shrugs when he doesn't see him in the near vicinity. Seeing Bedwir sitting nearby at a fire with a few of the knights, he strides quickly over and greets them. "Today's the day."

"Yes, Sire. We should move quickly. They know we're nearby." Bedwir moves a bit to the side to make room for Arthur to sit on a fallen log near the fire.

"What have our scouts reported?"

"They've just come back. Ceawlin's camp is about two miles down the road, closer through the forest. They have the construction of the siege tower almost completed, and two trebuchets already in position to hurl the stones they've gathered. They are almost ready to attack."

"Then we've come not a moment too soon. The inhabitants of the castle are no doubt feeling the strain of the long siege."

"We don't know if that Trickler made it through to let Alined know we're here, so he can ready his men for a counter attack to the invaders."

"Well, he'll no doubt figure it out when the invaders turn and start combat with our army." Arthur accepts a hunk of bread and cheese gratefully from the servant who approached with breakfast for the knights. He looks around the camp again, still puzzled by Merlin's absence. He reaches out with his hand, and stops the servant before he moves on, to ask him, "have you seen Merlin anywhere?"


	6. Chapter 6

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 6

The sudden impact of cold water drenching his head and shoulders shocks Merlin awake.

"Wakey, wakey," Ceawlin smirks, tossing the pail aside.

Merlin shudders and tries to shake the water from his hair and eyes. He looks up from his position on the ground at the stocky man looming over him. Ceawlin isn't tall, but his body reflects the strength built up over the years from hard training and endurance. His light brown hair is tied back in a club at the base of his neck, off of his scarred face. This is a man who has seen and survived many life or death battles.

Merlin blinks a few times and manages to sit up, looking around. His hands are still tightly bound, and he tries to wriggle his hands free. He starts making angry noises behind the gag still covering his mouth. At Ceawlin's gesture, one of the men unties his gag and Merlin spits it out of his mouth. "Who are you? What do you want?" Merlin snaps.

Merlin realizes that he's been captured by the Saxons, and was now in the front lines of their encampment on the meadow facing the Castle at Doerham. The army is spread out behind the front line, between the two trebuchets that stand ready to catapult their loads over the castle walls and into the town and keep. Scores of Saxon soldiers push the siege tower forward to position it against the castle walls between the other siege engines, ready for the order to ascend and scale the walls. There is every evidence around him of an army preparing to attack.

"I'll ask the questions if you don't mind." Ceawlin laughs, "since you're my prisoner."

"I don't know anything. I'm just a servant."

"Why were you wandering away from the camp, then? Spying, were you? You're no soldier; that's for sure."

"No. I was looking for my master."

"And who is he? One of the knights of Camelot?" Ceawlin sneers. "What's their plan? How will they attack?"

"I don't know."

A stunning blow by Ceawlin sends Merlin tumbling over onto his side. "Answer me, boy."

Merlin lies there for a moment, his eyes closed. Ceawlin leans down and yanks Merlin up by his jacket to deliver another blow with his fist, his ring catching Merlin near his eye. He lets go of Merlin's jacket to strike with his left fist on Merlin's jaw. Merlin flies back onto the ground. "In case you've forgotten the question, I asked you: how will they attack?"

Merlin tastes blood in his mouth, and spits it out onto the forest floor from where he is lying. "I don't know anything. Do you think they would advise a servant of their battle plans?"

Ceawlin draws back his foot, ready to kick his prisoner on the ground. "Commander Ceawlin," another Saxon interrupts as he races up to Ceawlin. "The Camelot army is on the move."

Ceawlin makes an angry noise and completes his kick to Merlin's ribs. Merlin curls around his middle protectively. "Pick him up, secure him to the trebuchet," he snarls. "Let him watch us defeat the great Knights of Camelot."

"You'll never do that." Merlin forces a laugh while the soldiers drag him, kicking and struggling, to tie him to one of the support legs of the device, facing away from the castle.

Ceawlin ignores him, and starts shouting orders and pointing in various directions as he moves to the front. "Prepare to attack. Tell Beroun to lead his men to face the Camelot forces in the rear."

Messengers dart away to convey Ceawlin's commands. Ceawlin moves down the line of soldiers, speaking to his lieutenants. If nothing else, Merlin realizes, this is an army with a skilled and powerful leader in Ceawlin. Arthur may be facing a more formidable foe than he expected. The fighters milling around form themselves into columns, weapons at the ready, at the shouts of their leaders. Merlin doesn't understand what they are saying, but the commands are effective in creating a strong fighting force.

The soldiers manning the engine ready the first load of stones, and pull back the arm before launching it at the order of one of the soldiers who seems to be leading them. Merlin feels the entire structure lurch when the huge arm swings overhead and releases its load. The stones fly over the walls. Again the Saxon soldiers load the heavy stones and set them sailing overhead. Merlin cranes his neck around to try to see the progress of the siege tower as it is being slowly rolled into position. The trebuchet lurches again, and Merlin bangs his head against the support pillar with the motion. He feels the entire structure straining with the heavy loads it's hurling.

Maybe he can do something and free himself without anyone realizing. He closes his eyes and reaches out with his magic to see the path of the strain on the siege engine's parts to find the weakest point. When he identifies it, he lets his magic give it a push to increase the pressure with every swing. After a few more launches, the weak point in the beam snaps with a loud crack. Merlin feels the entire device shudder just before it topples over, taking him with it. The machine lands on its side, disabled, trapping two Saxon soldiers under its heavy beams. Their screams are lost in the chaos of the shouts and clamor of the Saxon fighters who have been ordered to charge the castle walls and are running across the meadow.

A quick glance around convinces Merlin that no one is paying attention to him; he flashes his eyes at his bonds and frees himself. He tosses the ropes away and scrambles to his feet, looking for Ceawlin. An army without a leader loses its direction. He will do what he must to help defeat the Saxons.

He finds Ceawlin exhorting his men as they race past him, swords at the ready, to storm the castle walls. As one soldier rushing to pass Ceawlin raises his sword with a thunderous war cry, he trips on a root that hadn't been there a moment before, and stabs the commander, dragging him off his feet as both crash to the ground. Merlin lowers his hand, the gold in his eyes once again returning to their normal blue. The soldier withdraws his sword, and staggers to his feet, leaning over the Saxon leader. Ceawlin lies in a widening pool of blood and doesn't move again. The soldier stands still in disbelief; then he starts screaming.

Just then, Alined's soldiers storm out of the castle and engage the Saxon force to defend the castle. The Saxons are taken by surprise, but those in front continue their fight unaware of the loss of their leader. Those at the rear start to slip away and disappear into the forest behind the meadow. With no one in the lead to exhort the troops to battle and storm the castle, the fight is already lost. Merlin watches the Saxon army retreat with satisfaction, then joins in the battle with a bits of magical mischief to harass the Saxons and impede the progress of those still fighting. No one notices.

Satisfied that the defenders have carried the day, Merlin turns around to get back to the forest and find the Camelot forces. A hand clamps firmly on his shoulder and he hears a voice hiss in his ear, "not so fast, Saxon dog."

More Saxons retreat and escape as Alined's men advance across the meadow. The Saxons still alive and fighting give up the battle and surrender. When the soldiers round up the Saxon survivors to take as prisoners back to the castle, Merlin is swept along as a captive with the Saxons around him, his protests earning him only a sharp crack across the jaw. One captor is the same as any other, he knows, and mutely follows the others to walk to the castle at sword point. There are too many watching eyes to try an escape. Alined leads the rest of his men forward across the meadow to the forest to find the rest of the invaders who were defending themselves against Arthur's advancing army.

xXx

The pounding hooves of the galloping horse match the rhythm of Beroun's racing heartbeat. When the retreating men told him of Ceawlin's death, the sudden failure of the siege engines, and the potency of Doerham's defenders, Beroun knew the day was lost. The soldiers poised to engage Arthur's army melted away into the woods to escape capture. Beroun had tried to rally the Saxons under his command, and they fought valiantly; but without the additional fighting power of the mercenaries they'd recruited, the line couldn't hold. He ordered a retreat, for the men to make their way to the coast. He mounted his horse and took off at a gallop to inform Morgana of Ceawlwin's defeat.


	7. Chapter 7

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 7

Arthur has led his army to a swift victory over the Saxon invaders. Beroun, who was Ceawlin's second in command and was charged with the defense of the Saxon rear position to engage Arthur's army, has fled. The soldiers running from the siege front line told of Ceawlin's death and the rout that was taking place under the castle walls. Beroun realized that his force was now facing warriors on both flanks. It was a battle that could not be won. After Beroun made his escape on horseback, most of the Saxon force abandoned the fight, scrambling to evade the Knights of Camelot and the army behind them and the defender's forces streaming from the castle.

With his Knights behind him, Arthur wheels his horse to meet King Alined and his knights at the edge of the forest next to the meadow. In the distance he sees Alined's men directing a group of Saxon prisoners into the castle. His own men are rounding up the Saxons they've captured, to be taken back to the castle. Arthur spares them little thought.

"Well met, Arthur!" Alined shouts as he rides up, panting and joyful, followed by a small group of knights.

"King Alined. We are relieved to find you well after your ordeal," Arthur says when Alined and his entourage reach him.

"Your timely arrival and your clever ploy in demolishing that trebuchet turned the tide."

Arthur looks puzzled, scanning the area for the trebuchet. "What?"

"Your men must have sabotaged it somehow. Smart thinking, I'd say. The engine fell over after it was fired."

"Glad to help."

"And then when their leader, this Ceawlin as he called himself, was killed by his own man, the Saxon force attacking the castle lost its drive. The fight was well over then. Brilliant strategy! How did you manage it? We owe you a debt of gratitude."

"As I said, we were glad to honor our treaty with you." Arthur scans the battlefield with satisfaction.

"And that you did. Doerham is safe." Alined is gracious, spreading his arms in welcome. "Come, follow us to the Citadel for our celebrations." He turns to the Knight closest to him on his right, "see that these captives are put with the others, and have the castle servants bring in the Saxon's food and supplies. Let it not go to waste." The Knight bows to him from his saddle and rides off to carry out the King's orders.

Sir Bedwir rides up next to Arthur. "I'll organize the camp for the foot soldiers and horse for tonight, Sire," he says.

Arthur nods to him. "Yes, please. When you're done, come to the castle keep for the celebrations." Before they move out to ride down to the castle, Arthur turns around in his saddle to address Mordred on horseback behind him. "Mordred, take Aurelius and look for Merlin, would you? That idiot seems to have disappeared."

"Yes, Sire." Mordred inclines his head. "Aurelius," he calls out. "Gareth and Gaheris, you two as well. Come with me." The twins exchange a glance. Gaheris raises an eyebrow at his brother and Gareth smirks back at him.

xXx

At victory feast, Arthur sits at a place of honor to King Alined's right at the head table in the front of the grand room. One of the castle servants has replaced the missing Merlin behind him to make sure his cup is filled. The toasts have been drunk, speeches of honor and appreciation delivered, and now Trickler is cavorting in the middle of the banquet hall between the two long side tables, providing entertainment to the Knights and courtiers assembled to celebrate the end of the siege and victory over the Saxon invaders.

Mordred and Aurelius, trailed by the Orkney brothers, slip into the room through the main doors. Mordred walks slowly along the side wall, down the length of the hall, leaving the others to find seats at one of the long tables. "Sire," he says when he reaches the area behind the two Kings. Both men glance up at the word. Alined returns his gaze to Trickler's antics when he sees that the Knight approaching is one of Arthur's men.

"Mordred, I was wondering where you'd got to," Arthur smiles at him. "It's been dark for hours."

"We searched the woods around the castle until it was too dark to see, even with torches, Sire. We found no sign of Merlin."

"What's wrong?" Alined interjects, his attention drawn by Mordred's words.

"My servant's gone missing," Arthur answers with irritation. "No doubt he'll turn up with some outlandish story of how he got lost." He shakes his had with a rueful laugh. "Thank you, Mordred. Go find yourself some food."

Mordred has just turned to leave Arthur's side, when another man approaches the dais where the Kings are seated. He is a tall and broad shouldered man in his late thirties, with dark blond hair and a full, neatly trimmed beard.

"Ah, My Lord Rivalen," Alined says. "Well timed."

Arthur, who had been watching Mordred walk away with a troubled look on his face, draws his attention back to his neighbor. He looks up to see the man with a golden beard standing attentively, with a smile on his face.

"Arthur," Alined continues, "meet the Duke of Cornwall, Lord Rivalen, son of Tristan Dubois. Your cousin."

Arthur is startled to learn that he has a cousin. He knows so little about his mother's family in Cornwall. He's heard of his mother's brother Tristan, who had been killed by Uther, and remembers Agravaine all too well: the betrayal is still fresh in his mind, even after three years. But he didn't know that Tristan had a son.

"Cousin, it is good to meet you at last," Lord Rivalen says with a wide smile, that Arthur can't help but return.

Arthur rises from his chair to clasp the other man's arm. "Well met, indeed, cousin!" Arthur says, delighted. "I know no one from my mother's family."

"Then, it's about time you learned." Rivalen grasps Arthur's arm in a firm handshake. Alined leaves his seat and stands next to Arthur.

"The Duke is one of my nobles," he explains. "He was visiting when the siege began. It was at his suggestion that I sent to you for aid."

"And I'm glad you did," Arthur replies, "if only for this opportunity."

"Then, take advantage of it, cousin. Come visit my family in Tintagel. Your mother's home."

"I must see to my army first, to get them safely home to Camelot."

Alined suggests, "let your Sir Bedwir lead the army home, while you travel on to Cornwall with a couple of your Knights."

"Yes, cousin. My mother and my wife would be delighted to greet you and show you Tintagel."

"Cornwall is in Odin's kingdom," Arthur says. "We'd need safe passage."

"You'll be traveling with me," Rivalen assures him. "Besides, Odin's an ally of Camelot's now, is he not? Since that incident in Nemeth with King Rodor."

"A reluctant one, but yes. Not an enemy any more, at least." Arthur thinks rapidly about how he can arrange it. Bedwir could command the army for its journey back to Camelot. And Arthur can travel with just Mordred and young Aurelius as escorts, and Merlin to serve, of course. His thoughts stop on Merlin. "Yes, I'll come. But I will need a few days here first."

At Rivalen's questioning look, Arthur adds, "my manservant has gone missing. We need to find him before we travel."


	8. Chapter 8

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 8

Merlin sits in the filthy straw on the floor of the cell, with his back to the wall. His ankles are shackled with chains to the two other prisoners on either side of him. His face still throbs from the blows he'd received during both of his captures. He'd been unable to get the guards to listen to him when he tried to tell them he's not a Saxon. They laughed at him when he said that he was King Arthur's servant and begged them to give a message to the King of Camelot.

He's lost his cloak somewhere along the way, when he was tied to the trebuchet, he thinks, and now is shivering in the cold dank air of the cells. The Saxon prisoners, clad in their furs and leathers, seem to be more able to deal with the cold. He doesn't understand their language; it's guttural and foreign to his ears. The food that was tossed into the cell for their dinner is long gone, shared among the Saxons, but not with Merlin, the stranger.

No one has told the men in the cell what will happen. He's not sure they would understand what was said in any event. His own questions and protests go unanswered, apart from an indifferent shrug or a blow to the head. He's desperate to escape, but fears using his magic to free himself. There are too many people around. He'll have to wait for an opportunity. In the meantime, however, he can do something. He glances around at the sleeping Saxons and peers at the door to the cell to see if he can spot the guards. All is quiet. He murmurs a quick warming spell and tries to sleep, resting his head against the wall behind him.

xXx

Arthur and Bedwir, with Aurelius following close behind, slow their horses to a trot as they approach the Camelot army encampment in the woods outside Doerham. It's a bright sunny morning after the feast in the Citadel. Arthur has decided that he will ride for Cornwall along the route that Alined suggested as soon as Merlin decides to show up.

The camp commander that Bedwir had left in charge greets them with a bow, proud of the organization and order of the men and equipment. The riders dismount, and Aurelius takes the reins to wait with their horses. Arthur strides to the tent he had occupied on the first night, Bedwir and the commander following close behind.

"Merlin?" he calls out as he opens the flaps to enter the tent. He's met with silence, and he sees that the tent is empty. "Have you seen Merlin?" he asks the camp commander.

"No, Sire. Not since the night we arrived here," the commander answers. Then he adds, "the night before the battle."

Arthur huffs in annoyance. "Bedwir," he says, "I'll need someone to pack up my personal belongings to be sent to the castle. The maps and weapons I don't need can go back to Camelot with you."

"I will see to it right away, Sire," Bedwir says. He quickly leaves the tent to find a servant to complete Arthur's request.

Arthur strides over to the camp desk, and sits behind it. He starts to sort through the documents strewn about on the desk to decide what to take. He rummages through the map case until he locates a map that includes Alined's and Odin's Kingdoms with enough detail to locate the route to Tintagel in Cornwall. Satisfied, he rolls it up and sets it aside. He gestures to the rest of the parchments and scrolls on his desk to the camp commander, saying, "have these packed up in the map case."

The commander bows his assent as Arthur leaves the tent the Cornwall map in his hand.

"Aurelius, let's go." Arthur quickly mounts his horse, as Aurelius hands the reins to Bedwir's horse to one of the soldiers nearby. He spurs his horse to a gallop back to the castle.

xXx

The next morning in the dim light of the dungeons, the guards open the cell door and storm inside, shouting at the prisoners to get up and move, punctuating their orders with kicks. The Saxons look around at each other in confusion. Merlin stands up with effort, and gestures to those around him to do the same, nodding in the guards' direction to explain his actions. The others follow as the guards push and prod them to walk, still chained together. They shuffle along slowly through the corridors and up a staircase, which exits into a small courtyard bright with sunshine. Merlin squints and blinks at the sudden light.

The guards try to hurry them along to cross the small open space, passing through a gatehouse to reach a larger square facing the central keep. The prisoners are led around the side, out of the way of the inhabitants of Doerham who serenely go about their daily business. But the ebb and flow of pedestrians through the square is suddenly disrupted as two riders in bright red capes gallop in from the gate on the other side to ride up to the keep.

Merlin looks up to see the cause of the disturbance. "Arthur!" he yells, catching sight of the King. The nearest guard races over and slams him hard, knocking Merlin to the ground onto his knees.

Arthur reins his horse at the entrance to the keep and looks around, thinking he's heard his name called. He sees the townspeople on their own errands, and the line of Saxon prisoners off to the side, but cannot identify the source of the sound. "Did you hear that?" he asks Aurelius.

"What, Sire?"

"I thought I heard someone call my name."

"Who?"

"Yeah. Who indeed?" He looks around and sees the line of Saxons and Alined's men. Arthur and Aurelius dismount, and quickly enter the keep well ahead of the waiting prisoners.

The two men he's chained to yank Merlin to his feet, and he stumbles along with the others, following the guards into the stone building. The prisoners are taken into the great hall where the banquet had been held the night before. One by one, they are led, still chained together in a line, to a table with a scribe and an interpreter who could speak and understand the Saxon tongue. Each prisoner gives his family name and village to the scribe, who entered them onto a parchment. King Alined evidently intends to seek ransom payment to buy the prisoners' freedom and swell his own coffers. Merlin's hopes soar as his name is added to the list.

"I'm King Arthur's personal servant," Merlin tells the scribe, pointing at the parchment on the table. "From Camelot. Write that down."

The scribe looks up at him, and snorts in disbelief, his quill poised above the parchment. "Yeah, and I'm a Sidhe princess. Next." Merlin is shoved aside by the next prisoner in line, only his name written on the list.

xXx

Arthur and Aurelius reach Arthur's guest chambers, shrugging off their cloaks when they enter the warmth of the room. Arthur expresses his annoyance with his missing servant, saying, "I can't imagine where Merlin's gone off to." Aurelius steps forward to help the King remove his armor and mail. He smiles at his younger cousin. "Thank you for your help, though. I appreciate you're not a squire anymore, Aurelius."

"I can scarce believe it myself, Sire." Grinning, Aurelius ducks his head to see the buckles under Arthur's arm better to undo them.

"Your father will be proud. When this is over, you'll head home?" Arthur asks.

"Yes, my Lord. If that is all right with you."

"Of course." Arthur raises his arms, bending at the waist, to allow his mail to be removed. "Enter," Arthur calls out at the sound of a knock on the door. "Ah, Mordred. Well timed." He looks up at at the young knight as he enters the room.

"Sire." Mordred inclines his head. "There's been a messenger for you, from Camelot." Mordred steps forward to set on the table the scrolls Arthur had received.

Relieved of his heavy battle gear, Arthur rolls his shoulders to ease the tension. He walks over to the table and sits gratefully, picking up the messages. "We'll dine here tonight to discuss my trip to Cornwall. The two of you will attend me. I've a map to plot out our route. Before we go, though, we will ride out again into the forest to search for Merlin. He must be somewhere."

"Yes, Sire," the two knights echo.

"While we're out, you can stop at the camp to retrieve your own belongings for our journey." Arthur looks at the first message in his hand and opens it, scanning it quickly, frowning.

"Is everything all right, Sire?" Mordred asks.

"Yes. Yes. it's from Lord Ector, asking me to visit. He wants to talk to me urgently about naming an heir to his title and lands."

"Will you go, my Lord?"

Arthur sets the missive back on the table, nodding thoughtfully. "It's only a bit out of the way from the journey home. I will send a reply accepting his offer."

xXx

The next evening, as the golden red light of the setting sun angles into the room, Bedwir knocks on the door to the guest chambers where Arthur is staying. Arthur had spent a fruitless day with Aurelius and Mordred in the forest, looking for any evidence as to where Merlin might have gone. His blanket roll had been moved into Arthur's tent to be packed and sent back to Camelot, and there appeared to be no indication of foul play anywhere in the vicinity. They followed the various trails out from the camp that the men had created on their own, but all led eventually to dead ends. Discouraged, Arthur had returned to the castle on his own, leaving the two younger men at the encampment to pack up their personal belongings.

Upon his return to his rooms, Arthur had gotten to work to write out his thoughts to govern Camelot in his absence informing all of his plans to visit Ector, putting Merlin from his mind. At Arthur's call, Bedwir enters with two of the soldiers from the camp following with a trunk carried between them. Arthur is seated at the desk, reading over a document that he folds carefully and seals with wax when Bedwir walks in. Arthur presses his ring to the hot wax to impress his seal. He looks up at the knight.

Bedwir bows as he enters, and says, "Mordred and Aurelius will be back here soon with their own necessities for the trip, and the Orkney brothers have returned to the camp to travel home with me." Bedwir gestures to the two soldiers to place the trunk against the wall near the door. They bow and make their way out of the room. "You should have everything you need for your journey to Cornwall, my Lord."

"Thank you, Bedwir," Arthur acknowledges. "When do you plan to leave for Camelot?"

"At first light tomorrow. No sense in delay."

"I've letters of instruction for Sir Lionel and Sir Geoffrey for you to deliver," Arthur says. After a moment he adds, "and to the Queen, but hers should be given privately." He smiles, thinking of Guinevere, then picks up a few other folded documents from his desk, and reaches out with them in his hands to Bedwir. "Here."

Bedwir steps forward to take them, and secures them in a pouch attached to his belt. Arthur makes a small gesture to detain the other man. "I've decided that I will make another stop on the way home – to visit Lord Ector. He wishes to name an heir. My letters inform the Queen and the council of this change in plans. And there's a letter to Lord Ector advising him of my acceptance of his invitation; see that it's sent to him."

"I will convey the messages, Sire." Bedwir bows his goodbye.

After Bedwir leaves his chambers, Arthur sits at his desk for a few moments, lost in thought. He is eager to visit Cornwall, to learn what he can about his mother and her family. His father rarely spoke about his mother, and had certainly never suggested a visit to Tintagel. But Arthur wants to feel close to her somehow, and this is his best opportunity. He cannot let it pass. He startles at a servant's knock to announce dinner. He rises and leaves his chambers to follow the servant to Alined's quarters where he'd been invited to a private meal with the older King.

After their meal, Arthur and Alined sit in the chairs positioned for warmth in front of the fireplace. "Nights are getting chill," Arthur comments, waving his wine goblet toward the fire.

"Indeed. And the days shorter," Alined replies in kind to the polite pleasantry about the weather this time of year.

Arthur looks down at the goblet in his hand, lifting it to his mouth for a small sip. "I saw your Saxon prisoners in the keep square yesterday," he says, changing the subject. "What will happen to them?" He's curious, since he was responsible for the capture of many of them, and doesn't wish harm to come to those who were simple soldiers following the commands of their leaders.

"They'll be offered for ransom to their families or villages."

"That will take some time, I expect." Arthur is relieved that the captives will not be killed outright. "And if no one offers to pay for freedom?"

Alined smiles, hiding behind the rim of his goblet, taking a drink of wine, and thinking of the profits to be had. "They'll be indentured to whoever is willing to pay. Ultimately, they may be able to buy their freedom." Alined pauses for a moment, then adds, "funny thing, though. The guard commander tells me that one of the Saxons actually speaks our language. He made a right nuisance of himself, insisting that he was from Camelot."

Arthur leans forward in his chair, and says sharply, "what was his name?"

"No idea. It's on a list somewhere." Alined shrugs, waving his hand. "If he is from Camelot, what was he doing among the Saxons?"

"Where is this list? Where are the prisoners being held?" Arthur jumps up from his chair, ready to see for himself.

Alined looks at him with surprise at his reaction. "Guard," he calls out. When the guard opens the door, he says, "find someone to take King Arthur to see the prisoners in the cells."

Arthur strides to the door, impatient to go. "What's the rush?" Alined asks.

"It could be my missing servant," Arthur says.

"Well, even so. He's still my prisoner," Alined drawls, casually crosses his legs, and glances slyly over at Arthur. "Do you intend to buy his freedom then?"

Arthur shoots him a glare as he leaves the room.


	9. Chapter 9

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 9

Arthur follows a castle servant out of the keep. They cross the courtyard in the dark, dashing through the pouring rain, to the gate to the small area leading to the armory with the cells below. Once down the stairs, he calls to the guard commander, "show me your prisoner list."

The commander looks up from his seat to the face of the angry King. "Don't have it. Scribe took it. Or maybe the chamberlain. Don't remember." He shrugs. "No list here."

"Where are the Saxon prisoners, then? I need to look for someone."

"You're out of luck. They've been moved."

"What do you mean? Moved where?"

"Dunno. They're just gone. Left yesterday." The guard shrugs again, and gestures with his hand to indicate the empty cells behind him. Arthur stalks down the corridor anyway, in the vain hope of finding the men held captive. There is no one. Wearily he climbs the stairs back up to the armory to retrace his route across the rain swept courtyard to the keep, heading back to Alined's chambers.

Arthur is furious as he storms down the corridor behind the servant taking him back to Alined's quarters. They move swiftly, causing the flames in the wall sconces to waver as they pass. He's half convinced himself that Merlin is among the prisoners captured after the battle. And now they're gone.

"Alined!" he shouts as he bursts into the King's chambers. "You knew. And you didn't tell me! You knew the prisoners had been taken away. My servant might be among them."

Alined looks up from the chair where he had been reclining near the fire. He sets aside the goblet of wine. "Arthur, calm down." Alined makes a placating gesture with his hands. "How would I know? My steward handles all that. No doubt he felt that the number of men to be held was too great for our resources here."

"Well, have him summoned here then. Let's see the list, and have him tell me where they've gone."

Alined narrows his eyes suspiciously. "What makes you think your manservant is among the Saxon hostages?"

Arthur bites out his reply. "Not sure. But he went out during the night preceding the battle. We haven't been able to find any sign of him since around our encampment in the forest. It's possible he had been captured by the Saxons, then somehow caught up in the aftermath of the battle."

"Or did you send him out? Was he your secret weapon to secure victory?"

"Merlin?" Arthur sniffs, dismissive. "Hardly."

"Just a thought." Alined shrugs. "If he was among the Saxons, as you say."

Arthur shakes his head in denial, frowning. He holds out his hand to the other King, palm up. "The list?" Arthur's voice is impatient.

"Very well. Guard!" Alined calls out to the man who appears at his door, "fetch Sir Roger here." He turns back to look at Arthur, who is standing next to the table in the center of the room.

"So, you'll pay his ransom, then?"

"No, Alined. I will not." Arthur speaks with his jaw clenched. "If he is among your prisoners, you will give him to me – in gratitude for Camelot's timely intervention in your siege."

Alined laughs. "Well, it was worth a try."

"You will have someone lead me to where the prisoners are being held, and instruct your men to release him."

"We'll talk to Sir Roger. Then you can go in the morning."

xXx

Alined keeps his word, and Arthur, along with Mordred and Aurelius, leaves the castle shortly after dawn to follow one of Sir Roger's men. He carries a safe conduct pass for the prisoner should one prove to be Merlin. Just before mounting their horses in the square fronting the keep, the man explains that the prisoners were traveling to a nearby castle held by one of Alined's loyal retainers, there to be housed until ransomed or sold. Since the Saxon prisoners were on foot, Arthur is confident that they will quickly overtake them on horseback.

They gallop down the road from Doerham, which winds its way east into the forests of the southern hills. It had rained heavily the night before, and their horses' hooves splash through the puddles remaining on the road, kicking up the mud in their wake. The sky is overcast and threatening to rain again. Arthur looks up unhappily, glad of his warm cloak, but eager to avoid another downpour.

They catch up to the columns of Saxon prisoners slowly shuffling their way down the road, guarded by Alined's men on horseback. They wield their whips efficiently to keep the men in line and moving steadily forward. The Saxons mostly walk with their heads down, each following the steps of the man before him. The prisoners are soaked through, having spent the night on the side of the road unprotected during the rainstorm.

Arthur trots his horse along the column to the front to find the knight in charge of the prisoners. Roger's man follows close behind.

"Halt the column!" Arthur shouts to the guards on horseback.

They reach the leader and tell the knight what they want, showing him King Alined's writ. "Here. We're looking for a man who might be among the prisoners."

While they converse, the guards slow pace of the column of prisoners who are trudging sluggishly along the road, with heads bent and shoulders slumped in the exhausted resignation of the defeated. All but one.

About two-thirds down the second long column of prisoners, chained to the men in front and behind him, Merlin reacts when he hears Arthur's shout. He starts to tug at the chains that connect him to the others, dragging his feet to draw attention to himself. "Arthur!" he yells.

At the shouts and gestures of the guards, the prisoners come to a stop to stand still and wait, apathetic, with Merlin among them still struggling against his chains to get free.

Arthur dismounts and strides over to Merlin, grabbling his arm. "Release this man," he commands.

The knight at the front calls back to the guards, "do as he says."

The lead guard traipses down the length of the line of prisoners, and reaches into his pocket for a key to the shackles binding the Saxon captives. When Merlin is finally unchained from the other prisoners, Arthur drags him aside, and nods his thanks to the knight. When Arthur turns his head back to Merlin, he sees the bruises on Merlin's face, the cut lip, and drying blood that is still trickling down the side of his face from a cut somewhere on his head.

"Why is he so bloody and bruised?" Arthur rounds on the guard.

"Aw, he was a bit cheeky, that one. Needed to learn his place, didn't he?"

Arthur grabs Merlin's arm again and gives him a small shake,with a smirk. "Glad to see you, Merlin."

Merlin nods. "Me too."

"Don't get carried away. Just glad we got here before the rain."

When he lets go, Merlin looks around as the columns of prisoners start to move off down the road through the forest, smiling in relief. He reaches up to touch the side of his forehead with his hand, and winces at the sting. He looks at the blood that has stained his fingers. He shakes his head, and starts to sway on his feet. Aurelius appears at his side and supports him before he falls. Merlin closes his eyes for a moment.

Aurelius gives Merlin his cloak to wear over his damp jacket in the chill air. They mount up and ride swiftly back to the castle, Merlin seated behind the young knight. When they reach the keep, Arthur leaps from his horse, and strides over to Aurelius. "Take the horses to the stable," he tells the young knight.

"Yes, Sire." Aurelius dismounts gracefully, taking the reins of his and the others' horses. Merlin slides from the horse, lurching on his feet.

Arthur grabs Merlin's arm, pulling him along. "Merlin, you come with me."

Arthur leads the way at a quick pace to his rooms, calling back over his shoulder to Mordred to find a servant to build up the fire and fetch some food. Merlin stumbles after him, clutching the cloak around his shoulders. When Arthur pauses at the door to his chambers, Merlin reaches out with his hand to halt Arthur's entry.

"Arthur," he says quietly, looking down at his hand on Arthur's arm then up to meet Arthur's eyes, "thank you for finding me."

"Well, Merlin," Arthur drawls with a lopsided smirk, "as I've told you before: servants are hard to come by. Even ones as useless and irritating as you." He turns away and grins at Merlin over his shoulder as opens the door and saunters into the room ahead of Merlin.

Merlin huffs. "Yeah. Right. Well, thanks." He follows the King. But it isn't too long before Merlin is wrapped in blankets on the floor feeling warm and dry again in front of the fire in Arthur's chambers, devouring a piece of fruit.

"How on earth did you get tangled up with the Saxons?" Arthur asks him from his chair, watching him over the rim of his water goblet.

Merlin stalls his answer around a mouthful of half-chewed apple. He had eventually realized that the Orkney twins had deliberately lured him away from the Camelot army encampment, perhaps in the hope that he'd be captured by the Saxons. Merlin knows that the two squires disliked him since that incident a few years earlier with their accusation of theft of their father's knife, but doesn't really understand why their animosity took such a dangerous turn. He looks up at Arthur, reluctant to make such a harsh accusation against the two young noblemen. He knows that they are well respected for their skills as warriors and they have become Knights of Camelot. A servant speaks out against a peer at his peril. He realizes that his words to Arthur of their involvement could cause further difficulty and probably danger to him upon his return to Camelot. And so he keeps silent about their contribution to his capture.

He mumbles, "I wandered off into the woods and got lost."

"You wandered off?" Arthur repeats.

Merlin nods his head, chewing vigorously.

"And why did you do that?"

Merlin swallows. "Call of nature?"

"And then you got lost." Arthur is finding Merlin's explanation a bit deficient.

"Yes? I guess I wandered too far? So then the Saxons caught me?"

"Is that a question, Merlin?"

"Erm . . . no. They knocked me out and took me to Ceawlin, their commander."

"What did he want of you?"

"Information."

"What did you tell him?" Although he achieved a victory in this skirmish with the Saxons, Arthur worries that they could learn more about how he commands his army. They would be a formidable foe if they knew how to counteract his strategies.

"Didn't know anything to tell." Merlin lifts his shoulders and holds out his hands in a gesture to show he's not hiding anything.

"Seriously, Merlin. If this is how you answer friendly questions, getting anything from you is well nigh impossible." Arthur snorts and takes a drink of water. "So I assume that whatever you told him obviously didn't help."

Merlin shrugs, as Arthur continues, "lucky for us that the siege engines failed – he lost the day and then his own life."

Merlin, smiling around another bite of the apple, agrees. "Yeah. Lucky that."


	10. Chapter 10

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 10

Two days later, Arthur and his small group depart from Doerham to make their way to Cornwall in the company of his cousin Duke Rivalen and his retainers. The bruises on Merlin's face are starting to fade, and he's managed to hide from the others the evidence of the blows he'd experienced on his body. But still he holds himself stiffly on the horse that Arthur borrowed from Alined's stables; he hurts, everywhere, from the kicks and blows he'd endured as a prisoner of war. He rides, wrapped in a warm new cloak, at the back of the line of knights behind the horse carrying their supplies, as slowly as he can while still keeping up.

Duke Rivalen is leading the way to Tintagel, to his family's fortress, and the childhood home of Arthur's mother. Arthur follows the route on his map, only to keep track of where he is and where he is going. Every so often, he makes a notation on his map to remind himself of features that he's noticed of the topography to enhance the maps he'll bring back with him to Camelot. The land is gentle, with green covering the rolling hills along the coast.

Arthur and his new-found cousin converse warily. They're still strangers to each other, still unsure of developing a friendship. Arthur had been told nothing of his mother's family by his father. He's eager to know them, but wary of their motives. His experience with his uncle Agravaine's hatred and betrayal makes him cautious.

The Duke, on the other hand, shares his father's and uncle's dislike of Uther and had been raised to hold Uther responsible for Igraine's death – and for his own father's death when he challenged Uther He was just a boy himself, serving as a squire to King Alined, when Igraine left her home to live in Camelot after her marriage to Uther. Arthur was an innocent newborn when she died at his birth, but Rivalen wonders if he's become as ruthless as his father was. He well knows the hatred that Uther bore magic as a result of Igraine's death and the terror he brought to his people in the time of the great purge. Magic survived in Alined's kingdom. The Duke also welcomes it in Cornwall, recognizing that magic was a part of the fabric of all life. He needs to understand Arthur's attitude to magic before they reach Tintagel, since magic is so much a part of the family Arthur doesn't know. Rivalen doesn't have magic himself, and he suspects that is also the case with Arthur. Still, he's not sure how to broach the subject.

Rivalen turns in his saddle to look at Arthur riding beside him. "You are welcome to stay with us in Tintagel for as long as you wish, cousin," he says.

"I hope that this will be the first of many visits together, here and at Camelot." Arthur smiles at his cousin, holding the reins in one hand as he gestures with the other. "But I cannot linger long. I must return to Camelot, though I have decided to take a slight detour on the way home to visit one of my barons, Lord Ector."

"Ah. I don't know the gentleman."

"He's long been an loyal baron of Camelot, one of my father's. I squired under his tutelage, along with his son Cai." Arthur pauses for a moment, remembering with heartache how Cai lost his life in a misguided frenzied sword fight with Arthur a few years earlier.* He's hoping this visit will help make amends, if that is even possible. "His son is dead, and he's asked me to visit him to affirm his new heir."

Late in the afternoon of their departure from Doerham, the autumn sun casts long shadows of the men riding south on horseback. At Rivalen's direction they turn to ride east and chase their shadows as they head inland to the woods to make camp for the night. He calls a halt a short way into the woods at a small clearing with a stream nearby. Rivalen's knights dismount quickly, each moving to his task to prepare for the night. It's cooler out of the sun in the woods, and will be colder still when night falls. Merlin pulls his horse up to dismount next to the supply horse. He carefully swings his leg over the horses back and slowly lowers himself to the ground. Taking the horse's reins in his hands, he walks over to where Arthur, Mordred and Aurelius are standing and takes charge of their mounts. He leads the animals to the make-shift corral that Rivalen's men have set up and ties them up. Merlin removes the packs from behind the saddles of the knights' horses and brings them over to where Mordred and Aurelius stand warming their hands on the fire that one of Rivalen's advance men had started.

"Where do you want these?" Merlin asks them, indicating the blanket rolls.

Mordred points to an area close to the fire, where a fallen log made a natural seating on the forest floor. "Near that log there should do."

Merlin steps over to where Mordred had indicated and shrugs his load off his shoulders, letting the blanket rolls fall to the ground. He turns to head back to the corral. "I'll unsaddle the horses," he tells Mordred.

"No, that can wait. Here." Another of Rivalen's men lobs several empty water skins at Merlin. "Fetch water first."

Merlin cannot catch them all; a few hit him, and the rest of the skins scatter on the ground near his feet. Arthur glances over to see Merlin bending down to retrieve them.

Arthur steps over, and picks up a couple of the water skins. "I'll help," he offers.

Merlin looks at him and snorts, "since when do you know how to fetch and carry?"

Arthur's retort is silenced when Rivalen calls him over. He pitches the skins in Merlin's direction, who misses them when he reaches for them, and drops them all again.

Arthur walks away, shaking his head.

xXx

The party continues on in this manner for the two days it takes to get to Castle Tintagel, the seat of the Duke of Cornwall. The castle was situated on a spit of land that jutted into the raging seas. The riders had to swing around to approach the castle from the south, racing along a narrow rock strewn causeway, barren of trees or other vegetation. The sea birds swoop and wheel on the wind that rises from the sea, that teases the travelers' cloaks and reddens their faces. The castle looms over the neck of land that joins it to the mainland; none can near it unseen. When they ride up to the castle gates, they are met with a joyful welcome from the inhabitants: the Duke is safely home again.

Once through the gate into the castle courtyard at the head of the small procession of travelers, Rivalen leaps from his horse and strides at an eager pace to the small woman in a warm blue cloak standing before the keep with two small children at her side. When he reaches her, he sweeps her off her feet to swirl around in a jubilant greeting, the children bouncing with arms outstretched. When he sets her back on her feet, he widens his arms to include the children in his greeting.

As he dismounts, Arthur smiles to see the welcome at his cousin's homecoming, feeling the sharp sting of longing to be welcomed such at his own castle by Guinevere. Merlin and the knights dismount behind him, and Arthur tosses Merlin the reins for his horse before walking toward the family to greet his new-found relatives.

Smiling broadly, Rivalen introduces his wife to the King. "My Lord, may I present my wife, the Lady Blancheflor."

She curtsies deeply. As she rises, Arthur takes her hand to present her with a gentle bow. "My Lady," he says.

"King Arthur, you are most welcome to our home," she responds, glancing up at her husband fondly. She turns back to face Arthur. "We have long wished to meet you."

Rivalen turns to an older woman standing next to his wife, wrapped in furs. "And my mother, the dowager duchess, Lady Meliodas."

She offers a small curtsy, and bows her head. "Your Majesty."

Arthur smiles at the wife of the uncle he never met – his mother's brother, Tristan. She is the closest link he has now to his mother. He is eager to speak to her, to learn all he can about his mother. He inclines his head in return to her greeting. "I am grateful for your hospitality, my Lady," he says. "I look forward to speaking with you."

With a joyful grin, Rivalen swoops the smaller boy to his shoulders, ruffling the hair of the other who scowls while batting his father's hand away. "Come, let's get out of the chill air." The child on his shoulders kicks his feet and laughs, the high-pitched sound of his joy echoing in the courtyard as Rivalen briskly walks to the main doors into the keep.

xXx

"Hurry up, Merlin," Arthur snaps from his seat at the table. "What took you so long?"

Merlin wrestles Arthur's bags through the doorway to the guest chambers, panting from the climb up to the tower. "I got lost," he explains.

"The keep isn't nearly as big as Camelot. How could you get lost?"

Merlin drops the bags with a grunt of relief. "More than one tower, Sire. And lots of staircases."

Arthur shakes his head, hiding a smile. "Bring the bags over to the cupboard. I need to prepare for the feast."

"You're always ready for a feast, Sire," Merlin retorts, pointedly glancing at Arthur's midsection.

Arthur snorts. "Find my red tunic." He bends forward and removes his boots, tossing them in Merlin's direction. "And make sure my boots are polished."

Merlin glances back at him, from where he is rummaging in one of Arthur's bags. He pulls out Arthur's favorite red tunic triumphantly, giving it a cautious sniff. "It'll have to do," he mutters to himself.

As he stands he shakes it out and takes it to drape over the edge of the changing screen. He turns and crosses back to stand behind Arthur, who's risen and is waiting near the table. As he reaches out to grasp the buckle on the pauldron on Arthur's right shoulder, he asks, "what is the Duke to you?"

"My cousin. His father was Tristan du Bois, my mother's brother."

"The Black Knight?"

"Ah, so you do remember."

Merlin hmphs. "I was there."

"Yes. But thanks to my father and Gaius, I wasn't," Arthur grinds out with some residual bitterness. He'd been drugged and locked in his chambers. Later, he'd learned from Gaius who the mysterious Knight had been, and he still struggled to understand how and why his uncle would be raised from the dead to confront Camelot again.

As he unbuckles the straps at Arthur's shoulder, Merlin shudders at the memory of Arthur's challenge to the Knight after the defeat of two of his men at his hand, a suicidal challenge to a Knight who could not be killed because he was already dead. In a panic Merlin had begged the dragon for his help; but in the end it was Uther who faced the Black Knight and it was Uther's ultimate victory. Merlin remembers well the dragon's fury when he learned that the sword he'd burnished for Arthur at Merlin's plea was wielded by Uther to slay the dead Knight. He'd raced to hide it in the Lake of Avalon where none could find it. The dragon had warned that in the wrong hands that sword could do great evil. Merlin has witnessed its power, and used it himself when he had no choice. Arthur now carried that sword, pleased with its balance and beauty, unaware of its power. Arthur believed that he had pulled the sword from the rock in the forest – there were witnesses, after all – to prove he was the true King of Camelot. It gave him the faith he needed at that moment to return to Camelot and reclaim his throne. Merlin wrestles his thoughts back to the present to focus on the tasks at hand.

"Why have you not met him before?" he continues his questions, curious.

Arthur moves his shoulder in relief as Merlin lifts of the restrictive metal plating. "My father didn't want anything to do with my mother's family, I'm not sure why. In turn, for some reason, they blamed him for her death, I think. Tristan had challenged him shortly after her death and was killed in the duel by my father. And then after Agravaine. . . . I don't know." Arthur shakes his head.

Merlin unbuckles the breastplate and lifts it over Arthur's head, placing it on the table nearby. "I can see why you'd be nervous about meeting them. Your uncles certainly had no love for Camelot."

"I'm not nervous, Merlin. I don't get nervous." Arthur tugs forcefully to undo the straps on his left vambrace, flinging it onto the table when he gets it free.

"Yes, Sire." Merlin takes hold of the other arm to open the buckles and remove the piece, his smile focused on his work. "There you go. Now the mail."

Merlin steps back to drape the chainmail over the chair, and bends down to retrieve Arthur's boots. He grabs a cloth to give them a quick wipe with practiced ease.

Arthur had stepped behind the screen to wash off the dust from the journey. After a few moments, he emerges, slipping into the red tunic he'd grabbed from top of the screen. He takes the boots that Merlin hands him and sits on a chair to pull them on. Once he stands up again, Merlin swings Arthur's cloak over his shoulders. He's ready to go to the hall for the feast.

Merlin decides to speak. It's his chance since they are alone for now. He takes a deep breath.

"Arthur," he starts, reaching out to touch Arthur's arm. "I need to talk to you."

"Will this take long?"

"It's important, Sire." Two sharp knocks at the door interrupt him. "About Gwen," he adds, a bit frantically.

Arthur shrugs off Merlin's hand. "Yes, what about her? I've written. She knows we're here and of our plans."

"But . . . "

"Not now, Merlin. No time. I must go."

He sweeps from the room, leaving Merlin standing there, chewing his lip in frustration. He still needs to tell Arthur what he suspects about Gwen.

* * *

*A/N: See "His Servant's Master" by Nantasyland for the backstory.


	11. Chapter 11

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 11

Early the next morning finds Arthur in his aunt's solar, seated before a roaring fire in a comfortable armchair, facing his uncle's widow. Meliodas is seated across from him beyond a small table, studying his face, a cup of herbal tea warming her hands. She is a woman of sixty years or so, round of face and body, with curly brown hair and dimples when she smiles. Her clear brown eyes gaze at Arthur steadily, a warm smile softening her features.

"How like your mother you are," she breaks the silence.

"Please, can you tell me about her? I know so little," Arthur says, leaning forward to place the bitter tea on the table before him.

She closes her eyes for a moment, lost in her memories. "We were children together, here in Tintagel, the seat of the Dukes of Cornwall. We grew up like sisters. Vivienne, who lived nearby and visited frequently, was the eldest, then Igraine and me: we were inseparable." She smiles as she sees the mental picture of the three little girls at play throughout the castle. "Igraine and her brothers, Tristan and Agravaine, were first cousins to Gorlois, the old Duke's son. When their parents died, the three children came to live here full time; Agravaine, the youngest, was just an infant at the time. The old Duke had no other children besides Gorlois, who was away as a squire with Uther and his brother Ambrosius; I was the old Duke's ward, having come to Tintagel also as a very small child. I grew up here. And I was glad of the company when Igraine and her brothers came to live here." She takes a sip of her tea, steam rising to her face as she raises the cup.

"What was she like?"

"Ah, but she was beautiful. We have an image of her somewhere." She turns to get the attention of a serving woman seated on a stool under the window, using the light as she bent her head to her mending. "Edith, can you find the portrait of Lady Igraine? I think it's in the corridor to the reception hall."

The servant rises and nods, silently leaving the room. Arthur watches her depart before bringing his attention back to the elderly woman across from him, who is smiling wistfully at his eagerness. "You may have it to keep, once it's found."

"What was she like?" he asks again.

"Ah. Igraine. Her goodness glowed. She was kind and trusting and loyal, a beautiful girl, a gracious woman. It was no wonder that Uther fell in love when they met."

"He rarely spoke of her. I know so little."

"He loved her. There can be no doubt. But she wasn't his first love." Meliodas sips again from her tea, reluctant to continue with her tale of love and betrayal. "Are you sure you want to hear the whole truth, Arthur? It's not a happy story."

"Yes, my Lady. I do." Arthur nods. "I have a right to know."

Meliodas sighs, loath to start her tale. "We grew up, Igraine and I, like sisters - until we became truly sisters when I married her brother Tristan. Gorlois became the Duke while still a very young man when his father died. Vivienne, whose family seat was nearby, married Gorlois, and came to live here as a young bride. She had a child with Gorlois, a girl she called Morgause."

Arthur interrupts, "Morgause. I knew her!"

"Yes," Meliodas says, "I had heard of her visit to Camelot." Meliodas stares into the flames for a few moments, looking back into past pain. She continues her story. "Morgause was born with magic." She looks over at Arthur who is frowning.

"I didn't know that was possible."

"It's extremely rare. And only for the most powerful." She takes a sip of her tea, watching him over the rim of the cup, then resumes. "Gorlois, like your father, was no friend to magic. Vivienne feared for the child's safety, so she had her smuggled away by Camelot's physician to Nimueh and the Priestesses on the Isle of the Blessed, telling everyone that the child had died. Gorlois grieved, but accepted it."

"Wait, you said Camelot's physician took her to the Isle? You mean Gaius? He knew?"

"Yes. He knew Nimueh, the High Priestess."

Arthur shakes his head in disbelief that Gaius had never told him of this when Morgause came to Camelot to issue her challenge. Secrets. So many secrets. Arthur hopes that he will learn the truth from his aunt. He gestures to her with an open hand to continue her tale.

Meliodas nods sadly, seeing his distress, but carries on. "The girl thrived and grew quickly in her powers. She would visit Tintagel, or Vivienne would visit her when she could, when Gorlois was away at war, doing battle as one of Uther's most trusted generals, a valiant ally to Camelot. When she made the trip to see her daughter, Vivienne would stop at Camelot on the way to break her journey. It was during one of these excursions that she and Uther. . . " Meliodas's voice trails off.

"Morgana," Arthur mutters, and Meliodas nods assent. "My sister." Another secret.

Meliodas looks at him with sympathy and continues speaking. "When Uther learned of the child's birth, he rushed to Tintagel to see her. Gorlois was at home, joyful at the birth of the child he thought was his daughter. It was then that Uther first met Igraine. Vivienne was forgotten, and Igraine became the center of his world. They married shortly thereafter, with Gorlois's blessing, and Uther took her away to Camelot. She returned here only rarely."

"Did she know? About my father and Vivienne?" Arthur asks, concerned for the heartache of a mother he never knew.

"No," Meliodas assures him. "She loved and trusted your father completely."

"What happened to Vivienne? I know when Gorlois died, Morgana came to live with us. She was ten or so, I think. But where was her mother?"

"Vivienne had died from a fever when Morgana was still very young. Morgause was smuggled into Tintagel at the time to bid her mother farewell. She was a teenager, rebellious and angry. She wanted to take Morgana with her, back to the Isle of the Blessed. But Morgana had no signs of magic then, so I persuaded Morgause to leave Morgana with Gorlois, the good and honorable man Morgana thought of as her father. Morgause never came back here."

Arthur nods, understanding the heartbreak of the two girls, left without a mother. "So Morgause did know my mother?" he asks, remembering her words in the early morning the day after his defeat in the swordfight with her. Morgause had said she knew his mother 'very well' as she reined her horse ready to gallop from the courtyard in the Citadel. He remembers he'd taken Merlin with him to seek her out to keep his word to her to complete the task she would set him. When he'd placed his head on the block at her command, willing to give up his life to fulfill his promise, she'd rewarded him with a vision of his mother. Now he wonders: was there truth in what he'd heard spoken by the vision of his mother of the magic in his birth, when they stood in the leafy bower in that ruined castle? No. He quashes that thought quickly. The vision of his mother spoke Morgause's words. She must have been lying, just as Merlin had said. She was a sorceress, malevolent. His father could not have betrayed his mother like that. He would never condone the use of magic to conceive an heir, and the terrible price his mother would pay.

"Yes, of course she did. She visited here often when Gorlois was away at war, while she was growing up. She adored your mother. As did we all."

Arthur nods again, and sits back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his face, lost in thought. At the knock on the door, both Arthur and Meliodas startle at the interruption of their quiet conversation. "Enter," she calls out.

The door opens to admit Merlin, not the serving woman with Igraine's portrait that she had been expecting. "I'm sorry to intrude, my Lady," Merlin says as he walks toward the two seated before the fire.

"Well, that's a first," Arthur snorts. "A knock and an apology."

Merlin nears the small table in front of the fire and bows to Meliodas, glaring at Arthur from under his eyebrows.

"What is it, Merlin?" Arthur snaps at him, impatient; then he turns back to the woman sitting across from him. "Forgive my idiot manservant, my Lady."

Meliodas smiles at him, then looks up at Merlin and gasps. She starts to rise slowly from her chair and he reaches out with his hand to help her stand. She is staring at him in wonder. He jumps at her touch as if a spark had passed between them, and looks back at her. Magic. He can feel it. And she saw his. He gives her a small shake of his head, pleading with his eyes. He stands frozen with alarm.

"Merlin!" Arthur says again, snapping his fingers, trying to catch his attention. "What did you want?"

"Oh," Merlin stutters, taking a deep breath. "Right. Erm. . . . Duke Rivalen sent me to ask if you'd like to join him on a hunt. They're getting ready to leave right now."

"Go, Arthur," Meliodas says, dragging her eyes away from Merlin, forcing a small smile for Arthur. "You've been cooped up with an old woman far too long this morning."

Arthur stands quickly. "Can we speak again, my Lady?"

"When the time is right. I will find your mother's portrait for you, for now." She answers distractedly, looking between the two men.

"Thank you." Arthur grins and turns, grabbing Merlin's jacket and hauling him from the room. "Let's go hunting!" he says with enthusiastic joy.

"Me? No, please! I hate hunting."


	12. Chapter 12

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 12

The days were getting much colder by the time Sir Bedwir arrives back home in Camelot. He had taken the time to wash the travel dust and dirt and don fresh clothes before his audience with the Queen. He finds her in the council room, surrounded by Arthur's council.

"Sir Bedwir!" she calls out when the guards admit him to the room. "What news?"

"A great victory, my Lady. The Saxons were repelled and Doerham released from siege." Bedwir delivers his message while he walks the length of the room. When he reaches the head of the table where Guinevere is seated, he bows, handing her the letters from Arthur.

She looks up to see if there is anyone else behind him. "What of the King?" she asks, placing the letters carefully on the table.

"He is well. But has decided to travel on to Cornwall, to Tintagel, his mother's family demesne, and from there to Lord Ector's home," Bedwir explains. "There's a letter," he adds, pointing to the parcel that Guinevere had just put down.

"Thank you. You must be hungry and tired from your journey. Go have a meal and a rest. We will speak tomorrow." Bedwir has been dismissed. He looks around the room, uncertain why the Queen did not seem eager to hear more of her husband immediately. No one else appears to be surprised, so he decides to let it be, and bows a polite departure from the room.

Guinevere turns to Sir Geoffrey, who is seated to her right, gesturing to the letters. "Please handle these." He picks them up, and finding the one addressed to the Queen, passes it back to her. She nods her thanks. "Now, Sir Lionel, please continue with your summary."

xXx

"He survived. Just as you expected. Another glorious victory for the great warrior King." Gwen paces in the hallway just outside the crypt, where Morgana stands motionless in the shadows. She's speaking softly. It's become too cold to meet in the woods, so Morgana risks discovery in her visits to Camelot while the King is away.

Morgana smiles. "And has he gone off on his quest?"

"Yes. Apparently he met his cousin, the current Duke of Cornwall at King Allined's court. He invited Arthur to visit Tintagel to meet his family."

"And of course Arthur couldn't resist, could he? The poor boy was always a lost little soul looking for his mother."

"But, so what, Morgana? He'll just be home in a few week's time."

Morgana steps up and stops Guinevere's steps, holding her by her arms. "Now it is time to set in motion another plan to eliminate him."

"What?"

"He's going to Lord Ector's next, is he not?"

At Gwen's surprised nod, she continues. "The next part of his quest will be the killer. To get there he'll need to cross the lake that forms the border between Alined's Kingdom and Camelot that far south."

"Yes. Lake Sabrynn," Gwen adds.

Morgana smiles. "I have heard tales of a great sea-beast that has been trapped in the lake for generations. I will awaken it with a command to threaten the village where he will have to secure passage across the lake. The village Shaman will be told that a sacrifice will be needed to placate the beast, and Arthur will arrive. Conveniently." Morgana drops her arms and hugs herself. "He will be given as a sacrifice to save them. I'll make sure it's the only option."

Guinevere wraps her shawl tighter around her in the chill air of the corridor. "He won't be back, then."

"No. He'll be gone, and you'll rule Camelot as its Queen."

"I cannot do it without you, Morgana. You'll be with me?"

"Yes, Gwen. I'll always be there. Don't worry."

xXx

Meliodas enters the banquet hall trailed by Edith, her servant, and takes a seat between her son and Arthur. Merlin steps forward to offer her some wine. As he bends to his task, she hisses in his ear. "I must speak with you."

He straightens up. "My Lady," he says, unable to say more in response, other than try to acknowledge he'd heard her.

"Arthur," she says, turning to address the King. "We've found the portrait. If you send your servant to my chambers after the meal, I will give it to him for you."

"I am grateful, my Lady." Arthur smiles at her. "I was hoping we could continue our conversation, if it did not tire you over much."

"We will have time in the coming days, I expect. Though I am sure you would like to have the portrait sooner rather than later."

"Yes, of course." Arthur looks over his shoulder. "Merlin, you'll escort Lady Meliodas to her chambers and fetch it for me later."

Meliodas spares a glance back at Merlin and sees his nod. "Yes, Sire."

A short while later, Meliodas rises and makes her excuses to her son and his wife to return to her rooms. Edith quickly comes to her side. Bidding her goodnight, Arthur looks around for Merlin, ready to call out for him. But Merlin has placed the wine carafe on the table and is following Meliodas from the hall. They make their way in silence through the chilled torch-lit corridors to the warmth and light of her room.

"Edith, would you please bring me a hot cup of tea?" Meliodas asks her servant.

Edith curtsies. "Of course, my Lady. I'll be right back."

Meliodas sinks into her chair by the fire as soon as her servant leaves the room. Merlin stands a respectful distance, his hands crossed behind his back, waiting for her to speak. She stares into the fire for long moments. She shivers and she looks up at him, her eyes worried. "He's in danger, Emrys. You must take care."

Merlin startles at her unexpected warning, hearing his name. "Erm . . . what do you mean?" He makes a tentative step forward. "How . . ?"

"I had a vision, here. In the flames the night you arrived."

"You're a Seer?" Merlin interrupts.

She stares at the fire before she speaks again, ignoring his question. "The two of you were in a small boat, your hands were bound. The boat was pushed into the water and drifted out, away from the shore. Suddenly, Arthur was plucked from the boat by a great sea monster and dragged under the waves, lost for good." She rubs her eyes, then swivels her head to look at him again. "You cannot allow this to happen. You must protect him."

Merlin gazes at her, silent, stunned by her revelation. "I will," he says finally. "It's my duty, my destiny."

She nods gravely at that. "Yes, I know you will."

"You called me Emrys. How do you know who I am?"

She holds out her arm, and pushes up the sleeve of her gown to her elbow. There, on the inside of her forearm the Druid Triskellion is clearly seen, imprinted on her skin. "You are known to us all," she says quietly. She continues, looking up at him warily. "What does Arthur know of your powers?"

"Nothing." Merlin steps toward her, lowering his voice, urgent. "Magic is still banned in Camelot." He spreads his hand in supplication. An old memory flashes unbidden into Merlin's mind: Arthur standing at the pyre where Gaius was bound, ready to give the Witchfinder the signal to light the blaze. Ready to obey the law's command; ready to execute Gaius, a man who had cared for Arthur since birth. He swallows hard. "If he knew, he'd probably have to execute me."

She looks horrified when he says this. "Surely not," she protests.

Merlin shakes his head. "He would have to uphold the law. Using magic is punishable by death."

"He wouldn't do that."

"And I don't want to put him in that position . . . to . . . to have to decide my fate." Merlin shakes his head again, meeting her eyes with apprehension in his own. "He cannot know. Please."

She frowns, then shakes her head sadly. "I'll not divulge your secret to Arthur."

Merlin bows his head. "Nor I yours, my Lady."

"No one will harm me here; magic is accepted. The gifts of a Seer are honored, Emrys." She smiles.

"Please call me Merlin. Just Merlin."

"Well, Merlin. There is the portrait I promised Arthur." She gestures to a wrapped bundle on the table near the door.

He picks it up and bows to her. "Thank you," he says when he lifts his head.

"Just keep him safe," she replies. Merlin nods his acceptance.

He makes his exit from her chambers, lost in thought about the warning she had given him. He takes the portrait to Arthur's guest chambers, then returns to the banquet hall to serve Arthur.

"Did you get it?" Arthur is eager.

"Yes, Sire. It's in your room."

"Let's go, then!" He jumps up from his chair and grabs Merlin's jacket, pulling him along and out of the hall.


	13. Chapter 13

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 13

Lady Meliodas doesn't continue her conversation with Arthur the next day, begging off with a chill. Arthur takes the opportunity to spend the morning training with Rivalen's retainers and knights, who were staying at the castle. He pairs Mordred with Aurelius with others to spar and offers Rivalen a challenge of single combat with blunted swords. After a vigorous workout, the men made their way indoors.

Back in his chambers, Arthur finds Merlin curled up in a chair with a book. "Arrange for a bath for me, would you Merlin?" Arthur says as he tosses his sword onto the bed.

Merlin sets aside his reading, untangles his limbs, and leaves the room to find the steward or someone to tell him where to find a bathtub and fetch water. As soon as Merlin leaves the room without closing the door behind him, Arthur takes up his mother's painted image to study her face. He's startled out of his reverie by Rivalen's voice from the doorway, "she certainly was a beauty."

"Yes, I see that. I've always wished I knew her." He props the portrait up on the ledge above the fireplace and takes a seat at the table, gesturing to Rivalen to sit as well.

"Did you have a good conversation with my mother yesterday?" he asks Arthur. Before they speak again and Arthur learns the truth of his father's desperate use of magic to conceive an heir and his mother's death, Rivalen wants to understand Arthur's views on magic and how he would react to learn the truth. His mother had told him what Emrys said; he'll keep that secret safe.

"Yes, indeed. And I'd like to continue it. I know there's more to my parents' story."

"You may not like to hear it, Arthur."

"What do you mean?" Arthur pours each of them a goblet of water, offering one to Rivalen.

Rivalen leans forward to accept the proffered goblet, taking a drink, and setting it aside on the table. "There are some stories that are best left in the past. Retelling them may only cause fresh pain."

"I'll take that chance," Arthur avows.

Unexpectedly, Rivalen asks him, "what are your feelings about magic? Do you share the views your father held?"

Returning with another servant who is helping him carry the bathtub, Merlin reaches the open doorway, just in time to hear Rivalen's question. He pauses to listen, holding his breath.

Arthur shakes his head. "I like to think that I can make up my own mind about magic; I am not entirely like my father. I have allowed the Druids to return to Camelot," he declares proudly, although he knows that few have settled there again.

"Not all Druids have magic, you know, though they revere it."

Arthur makes a small gesture with his hand, acknowledging the other man's comment. "True. And they know that magic is still banned in Camelot – as it should be. All I have seen of magic is that it is used for evil or to accomplish selfish and petty ends."

"Surely some goodness can be found in the use of magic," Rivalen suggests.

"Maybe. But it's too often wielded by cruel and vindictive people. I've not seen any good that it has done. For me, . . or for Camelot. I still cannot countenance it." Arthur's mouth sets into a grim line; he leans forward. "There can be no place for magic in Camelot."

Hearing his own words from a few months before echoed in Arthur's assertion to his cousin, Merlin makes an involuntary noise and the two men seated at the table look up at the sound. Merlin's eyes are prickling; he bends his head.

"I've the tub for your bath, Sire," Merlin mumbles, stepping into the room with a house servant hauling the other end of the unwieldy tub.

"Well, then." Rivalen stands abruptly, glancing at Merlin with considering eyes. "I'll leave you to your bath."

"Please, can you ask Lady Meliodas if she can find the time to continue our conversation?" Arthur asks him before he leaves the room.

Rivalen clears his throat. "I'll . . . ah, . . . see if she feels up to it." Arthur smiles and nods as the Duke takes his leave with a final glance in Merlin's direction.

"Merlin, what's the matter with you?" Arthur glances at him, waving his hand in an indefinite gesture. "Put the tub near the fire."

Over the next few days, Arthur is regaled with many stories from various inhabitants of the castle who remembered Igraine fondly and well from the days when she was a girl and a young woman. He has a better sense of who she was, of her kindness and loving nature. But Lady Meliodas remains unwell, and does not invite him to continuer their conversation. He never hears the rest of the story he'd hoped she'd tell – of his parents' marriage and his own birth.

xXx

"We leave tomorrow?" Merlin asks, surprised, from where he's kneeling at the fireplace tending the fire. He knows that Arthur had been delaying their departure in the hope that he would have another conversation with Lady Meliodas. But she was never able to speak with him again.

"Yes, Merlin. We had to go sometime." Arthur had just walked into the guest chambers and told Merlin to start packing their belongings. He crosses over to the bed, undoing his cloak as he walks. "Lord Ector has been waiting for our arrival long enough."

At the sound of a knock on the door, Merlin rises to answer it, when Arthur calls out "Enter."

Mordred cautiously opens the door, looking inside. "I have the map you wanted, Sire," he says.

"Ah. Good. Bring it over to the table," Arthur instructs, stepping over to the table to take a chair at the head.

Mordred enters the room, Aurelius close on his heels. The two young men sit at the table with Arthur. Mordred opens the scroll, and sets it on the table, securing the corners with various items nearby. Arthur leans forward, pointing to where Tintagel castle is located on the map. "Here we are, on the coast of the great sea," he says. "And there is Ector's seat." He makes a quick mark on the scroll with his quill. "You can see how the water narrows to the north to meet the border with Camelot."

The two young knights nod as they study the map. Merlin, standing nearby, bends forward a bit over Arthur's shoulder to steal a glimpse of the points on the map they refer to.

"Merlin, stop hovering," Arthur snaps. "Go fetch some wine." Merlin steps back quickly, away from the table, frustrated. He ducks out of the room to complete his errand as quickly as possible. He needs to know where they are going.

When he returns, Arthur is speaking to the two other men. "As you can see from the topography in the area, It will be best to cross Lake Sabrynn to reach Ector's keep on the far shore. There's a town, here, . . ." he continues, squinting and pointing,. ". . . Westhay, where we should be able to find a boat for the crossing." He looks up at Mordred and Aurelius, capturing their attention. "Merlin and I will go across the lake, you two will take the horses and our belongings back to Camelot."

Merlin cranes his neck to see the map as he approaches the table with the wine for the three seated there. He sees the large lake Arthur is pointing to, separated from the sea by a thin strip of land. The Kingdom of Camelot lies on the western shore of the lake, with Ector's demesne at the far south, nestled in the hills just west of the lake. Lady Meliodas's description of her vision of the threat to Arthur in a small boat flashes into his mind, hearing Arthur talk of the need to find a boat to cross the lake. "Couldn't we go around the lake?" he blurts out.

"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. A short crossing in the boat will save days on the journey." Arthur pauses for a moment, then he laughs. "Maybe you won't get seasick this time." Merlin frowns, recalling their last sea voyage to the Western Isles. Arthur waves his hand at the flagon Merlin's holding. "Just serve the wine, will you?"

xXx

Morgana reins in her mount on the outskirts of a village situated at the lakeshore. Westhay is a small fishing community, living off the bounty of the great lake near the edge of the sea. The village is in the northwest corner of Alined's Kingdom, across the lake from the Kingdom of Camelot. When she's completed her task at the lake, she will venture in to speak to the headman and his shaman. She has a plan to set in motion. She knows that Arthur has accepted Ector's invitation to visit, and will need to cross the lake to reach Ector's holdings. She'll make sure he doesn't get there as planned.

She's heard of a great sea-monster, an ancient kraken, which has dwelled in the depths of the lake for many generations, trapped when its access to the great sea beyond was cut off when it silted over. It's time to awaken the sleeping anger in the beast and turn it to her own ends. She slips from her mount, landing gracefully with her dress billowing around her legs. She walks to the lake edge, slowly advancing into the chill water. When the water reaches her knees, she stops and waits for the water to cease its gentle lapping. She reaches into a pocket in her gown and withdraws a metal disk, carved with runes etched deeply around its edge.

Morgause had given this to her as a gift and had told her that the power in the disk could awaken anything living or dead. It holds powerful, dark magic. She's used it once before to call forth Lancelot's shade. She had tossed it into the water then to summon him, retrieving it after Lancelot's final death. She holds it again now, and rubs her hand over the marks, whispering the words of a spell she had found to rouse the power of the disk. Slowly she sinks into the water, to kneel on the sandy lake bottom. She leans forward, placing the disk on the sand in front of her knees. Reaching her arms out in front of her, she completes the spell, calling the kraken. She looks out over the surface of the lake. In the distance she sees a disturbance in the water, then a giant tail emerges from the depths of the water only to slap back down again, sending a spray of water into the air. Morgana reaches her hands down into the water and retrieves the disk, holding it out above her head, silently giving her commands, watching the water churn. She smiles. It is done.

xXx

When she rides up into the village by the lake, the townsfolk are standing on the shore, watching and pointing at the disturbances in the water. The giant kraken, not seen for many years, has resurfaced. The village headman speaks to his people, trying for calm. His shaman stands nearby, holding his staff. Morgana steps up to him to speak quietly.

"A sacrifice will be needed," Morgana tells the village shaman.

He looks at her, startled, recognizing her as a high priestess. "What do you mean?" he asks.

"The kraken has been awakened and will not be appeased without an offering. If you wish it to sleep again and leave your village safe, you must make one."

"How can we do that? I cannot send one of our people to his death," the man protests.

"No need." She smiles. "You will soon have visitors. They will do nicely. Let us talk." She draws him away to tell him to expect Arthur and his entourage, and what he must do. Arthur must be captured and sent to the sea monster as a gift for protection of the village. She scries a looking glass to show them the image of the King and his servant. "Take either one of them, and the other will follow," she says. "The others can go free."

"Yes, my Lady."

"You understand this. You must sacrifice them to save your village from destruction."

The shaman bows his head in acquiescence.

"Good." She strides away to find her horse, turning back to look at the shaman over her shoulder. "I'll be watching."


	14. Chapter 14

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 14

The great sea-beast was a descendant of the time in myth from before the time of man, when the dragons roamed the skies and the kraken ruled the seas. They were kin. Over the ages, the time of man rose up and the numberless beasts began to dwindle so that now few were left. The great kraken was one of the last of her kind. She had traveled up from the sea to a quiet corner in a long narrow tidal river to birth her calf away from the winter storms. There she would raise her young until he was old enough to brave the ocean on his own. The birthing time was long, and the calf did not thrive. After some time had passed, he let go of his fragile hold on life, leaving his mother bereft and alone in the quiet tidal pool of his birth.

But the works of man, and the movement of the tides had caused the entry back to the sea to close behind her. The mouth of the river leading back to the sea had silted up; men aided this process to create a great inland sea, a great lake in which to fish for their livelihood and sustenance. The kraken was trapped and could not leave the lake to rejoin the few remaining others of her kind that still swam free and wild in the open seas.

She cried out to her mate in the far sea, but he could not hear her.

She called out to the dragons, her kin who reigned over all that lived in the sky. But none heard her call. As the decades passed, their numbers too had declined until there was but one who survived, trapped in chains beneath a castle far to the north of the lake where she now dwelled. She had heard his roar of freedom and knew: there was a Dragonlord alive still. It was he she must call to her lake to free her as well so that she could swim once again through all the seas, free and wild.

She called to him. Time passed and he did not come to her lake. Men would sail their ships to cross her lake and she waited, quiet in the depths of the lake.

Until one day when she was awakened at a calling by the witch. The priestess commanded her to take the life of a sacrifice. She rears up to the surface of the lake at the call, confused and lost, as the people gather on the shore witness her distress, not understanding, alarmed at the sight of the great sea-monster.

Until that day when the Dragonlord comes to the lake. And then she knows his name. "_Emrys_," she calls out. "_Emrys. Help me. Please!_"

xXx

Riding on the road leading to the lakeside village, Merlin turns in his saddle, looking around, listening. "Did you hear that?" he whispers to Mordred.

Mordred looks around and shakes his head, but doesn't respond. Arthur sees Merlin's movements, and asks, "why so fidgety, Merlin?"

Merlin whips his head around, startled. "Erm. What? Yes. Well, I've been on a horse all day."

"As have we all, Merlin," Aurelius laughs.

"We'll be there soon enough. The map indicated that the village of Westhay is on the lake shore at the end of this road." Arthur spurs his horse into a canter and the others follow. The road curves to the north over gentle hills, and after a while the lake itself comes into view. The men lead their horses down the incline to reach the small town they'd just glimpsed in the distance.

The village of Westhay is large enough to support an inn for travelers, as others have made use of the boats they offer for crossing Lake Sabrynn to reach the Kingdom of Camelot. They rein up in front of the large wooden structure, dismounting with relief. Merlin takes the reins and waits with the horses as Arthur and the knights enter the inn to make arrangements for a meal and accommodation for the night, as well their passage across the lake.

The shaman, from a seat in the dark corner of the inn, watches as the King and his knights enter and cross the room to speak to the innkeeper. He wonders where the other man is, the dark-haired man the witch had shown him who travels with the King. Both will be sacrificed. He rises and leaves the inn to find the headman to make his own arrangements for the lake crossing by the small group. When he exits the building, the dark-haired young man from the vision the priestess showed him is standing there holding a group of horses. Merlin smiles at the shaman, and asks where he could find the stables to leave the horses.

xXx

Arthur and Merlin are in a room together; the other two knights share another. A small vessel and a guide has been arranged for the morning after breakfast to take Arthur and Merlin across the lake to the landing in Camelot. From there, they will be able to obtain horses to make the rest of the journey to Lord Ector's home. Mordred and Aurelius will head north overland to make their way home to Camelot city with the horses and their supplies.

A large meal and heady wine have worked their magic, and the King and his servant readily seek their beds for a good night's sleep, anticipating an early start in the morning. After Merlin blows out the last candle, Arthur settles onto his cot to sleep. Merlin sits on his own cot facing Arthur's, staring at his back. He shakes his head in frustration at himself, takes a deep breath. He needs to tell Arthur.

In the dark, Merlin says quietly, "Arthur, I need to tell you something." He's dreaded this conversation about Gwen, but seizes this opportunity when they are alone. He knows he may not get another chance soon, and he must tell Arthur of the danger he's in. He must tell him that he thinks Arthur's beloved Guinevere is a threat.

"Can't it wait until morning, Merlin?" Arthur complains with a bone-tired yawn, half asleep.

Merlin leans forward with his elbows on his knees, still watching Arthur's back recumbent on his cot. "No. It's important."

"Wassit?" Arthur's voice is barely a mumble in reply.

"Arthur, I don't know how to tell you this. It's not going to be easy. But you have to listen. Please. It's important." Merlin pauses to take another deep breath. "It's Gwen. She's enchanted," Merlin blurts out in a rush. "Something happened to her at the Dark Tower before you rescued her, I'm sure of it. She's not herself. Someone is controlling her. She's dangerous; she's trying to kill you. I stopped her, but what if I'm not there next time? Please Arthur, we have to do something about her."

Arthur doesn't answer, so Merlin goes on, "I know how hard this is for you to hear, but . . ." He pauses. At Arthur's continued silence, he says, "Arthur?" But Arthur is asleep and heard not a word of Merlin's incoherent warnings. Merlin sighs, and flops down onto his cot, turns over onto his side, punching the pillow to get comfortable. Sleep eludes him. He turns again, and then lies there, staring up at the ceiling.

"_Help me."_ A deep voice resonates in Merlin's head.

"What?" he answers, propping himself up on his elbows, looking around in the dark.

"_Help me, please. I know you can hear me_."

"Arthur?" Merlin peers over at the other side of the room, and sees Arthur sound asleep on his pallet, snoring gently. He lets his head fall back on his own cot.

"_Please, Dragonlord. Only you can help me_." Merlin sits up in alarm, looking around. He cannot ignore the voice. He buckles on his boots, and grabs his jacket to follow it, leaving Arthur asleep in their room.

He walks out of the inn, toward the lake, the cries of "_help me_," getting stronger, echoing in his head as he nears the water's edge. Suddenly, he's grabbed from behind, and a hand covers his mouth. He struggles, but cannot make a sound. His captor holds him tight while another wraps a rope around his midsection, binding his arms close to his body. A gag replaces the hand over his mouth, and he is effectively silenced. They propel him to the water, toward a small boat, Merlin kicking out his legs and resisting every step of the way. At the water's edge, he manages to kick out with his heels and catch one of his assailants in his groin. The man yells in pain and anger, and gives Merlin a hard smack across his face, knocking him flat on his back. While he's down, the others descend on him to control his squirming. They tie his legs together with another length of rope, and toss into the boat.

Arthur wakes with a start at the sound of a man's yell, and hears the sounds of a struggle outside. He looks over to Merlin's pallet, and sees that it's empty.

"Merlin?" he calls out, as he grabs his sword and rises from his bed in one smooth move. He sees no threat in the darkened room. He drops his sword on the bed, and hops around as he puts on his boots. Leaving his mail and armor behind, he's out of the building moments later, looking around for Merlin. The small group of men at the lakeshore catches his eye, and he runs toward them, sword drawn. When he reaches the water, he sees what appears to be a small boat beached at the edge of the lake with a wriggling body in it.

"Have you seen my manservant?" he calls as he nears the group.

One of the men shrugs his shoulder in the direction of the small boat. "The sacrifice?" he smirks.

"What?"

Arthur rushes toward the boat, and is struck from behind. Blackness envelops him as he's tumbled roughly into the boat. The men push it out into the lake as far as they can, giving it one last hard shove as the water deepens around them. The townsmen turn back to shore, letting the small boat drift out into the lake.


	15. Chapter 15

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 15

Arthur opens his eyes when the rocking motion he feels knocks his head against something hard. It's just getting light. He blinks, and sits up dizzily, trying to make sense out of the rocking. He reaches out to steady himself, and grasps the sides of the boat. The boat is rocking because of the agitated movements of the other occupant. It's Merlin, his feet bound together, and his arms held tight against his sides by the rope encircling his torso. He's making inarticulate noises behind the gag covering his mouth.

"Merlin! What the hell happened?" Arthur yells at the twitching bundle at the bottom of the boat, reaching over to yank down the gag from his mouth.

"We're in a boat." Merlin continues to squirm to try to loosen his bonds. "On the lake."

"Yes, I can see that. But why?" Arthur crawls over to him, ignoring his dizziness and nausea,, and tries to unravel the knots fastening the coils around Merlin's torso. He grunts with satisfaction when it comes loose, and he can start unwinding Merlin from the ropes restraining his arms.

"Dunno. They said something about a sacrifice." Once Merlin's arms are free enough to move, he shoots Arthur a grateful glance, and gets to work on the ropes tying his feet together.

"You have got to be joking," Arthur scoffs. Suddenly dizzy again from his efforts, Arthur lies back down and closes his eyes. The boat starts to rock again, and Arthur says, "Merlin!"

"That's not me," Merlin retorts, looking up from his feet. "Arthur, look!" He points at the water around the boat that has started to bubble and froth around them. Merlin bends to the task to free his legs with frantic haste, finally releasing himself from his bonds. Out of the corner of his eye he thinks he sees a giant grey arm rising from the depths of the water.

"What the hell is that?" Arthur yells, as the arm – no, tentacle - waves around in the air above the boat. The tentacle reaches into the boat and starts to touch Arthur, who is scrambling backwards to get out of its way.

Merlin stares in alarm. It's just as Lady Meliodas had foretold.

"NO!" Merlin screams, launching himself toward Arthur and grabbing at the tentacle to pull it away. The tentacle reacts, releasing Arthur, and instead moves toward Merlin, gently wrapping itself around him.

"_Dragonlord_," Merlin hears in his head, the now familiar voice conveying relief and joy. With a quick snap, Merlin is pulled out of the boat, out of Arthur's reach, to sink down into the water held firmly in the tentacle's grasp.

"Merlin!" Arthur yells and leans over the side of the boat to rake his eyes across the now stilling water. He looks around, seeing nothing disturbing the water's surface. Merlin is gone.

xXx

"You've done well," Morgana says, passing a pouch of gold coins to the shaman.

He nods his head in acknowledgement. "Thank you, my Lady. The creature won't come back again, will it?"

"It's calling was only for the one. It will trouble you no further."

She had watched the abduction and launch of the boat from a small hill outside the village, the scene illuminated by the torches held by some of the participants. What she found odd was that Merlin had left the inn to walk to the lakeside on his own. He walked straight ahead, as is listening to something, without seeing the townsfolk who had gathered nearby, who were preparing to seize the King and his servant from their room at the inn. They grabbed him there at the lakeshore while he stood peering out at the still water. Merlin had certainly put up a fight when they surrounded him and restrained him. She was surprised by his wiry strength. Then, as Arthur came charging out looking for him, she had to smile. So predictable, her brother, always ready to step in to defend the weak. He was caught unaware, and tossed into the boat. So brave; so foolish.

They were gone now, onto the lake, taken by the kraken she'd called forth. She smiles again, and puts her foot into the stirrup to mount her horse. Time to ride back to Camelot to wait for the news of Arthur's disappearance to reach the Queen. Gwen will assume the throne. Then Morgana can put in place the final stages of her plan.

xXx

Mordred and Aurelius head downstairs to the main room in the inn shortly after dawn. They cross the room to the bar where the innkeeper is standing. "Breakfast?" the innkeeper greets them.

"Please," says Aurelius with a smile.

"Where are our friends?" Mordred asks. "Have they come down yet?"

"The two of them left alone during the night," a voice speaks up from a dark corner of the room. The two knights turn as one to look into the corner to find the owner of the voice. Mordred narrows his eyes the better to see in the dim light. The man in the corner leans forward over the table, bringing his face into the light. It's the shaman.

"They were going to leave this morning. Why did they leave early?"

"They were given to the lake."

"What does that mean?"

The shaman doesn't answer, but slowly stands and walks across the room to the door without another word.

"Here you are, gentlemen," the innkeeper says, setting two platters on a table nearby. His wife follows with tankards of watered ale.

Mordred and Aurelius sit at the table, look at each other in confusion. "Why would Arthur decide to leave in the middle of the night?" Mordred says. "It doesn't make sense."

"We both heard Arthur arrange for a boat and a pilot for this morning. Did that man imply they went alone?" Aurelius picks up a piece of bread, tearing off a chunk.

"Something happened, Aurelius." Mordred looks around the room.

Aurelius is thoughtful as he chews his bread. "Maybe. But what? What did he mean 'they were given to the lake'?"

"I don't know. Let's talk to the village headman, send a message to Lord Ector, and then get back to Camelot as the King had wanted. We must tell the Queen."

xXx

"Merlin!" Arthur yells again into the stillness of the lake. He scans the surface of the lake slowly, all around the small vessel near and far, but there's no sign of him or the great beast that took him, or even any disturbance in the water anywhere that he can see. He's gone, really gone. Was Merlin the sacrifice? Or was it supposed to be Arthur, and Merlin threw away his own life to save Arthur's? He shakes his head, closing his eyes. _"That idiot!"_ he thinks, sitting alone in the boat. "MERLIN!" His voice echoes back to him over the water.

After a few minutes, Arthur rummages on the bottom of the small boat and finds a paddle. He'll try to cross the lake on his own, to find help. He gauges that it's early morning, shortly after dawn. He reckons a westerly direction based on the sun's position, and starts paddling at a slow and steady pace.


	16. Chapter 16

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 16

Merlin gasps, inhaling deep, desperate gulps of air as the great beast sweeps him up out of the water still firmly held in a tentacle before she dives back under the surface of the lake. "_Emrys. You came_," she exults.

"_AIR. I NEED AIR_." Merlin reaches out with his mind to that of the beast.

The long arm lifts him up again, and again he breathes deep when his face breaks the surface of the lake. This time the great sea-creature doesn't dive into the depths of the lake, but glides, her body just under the surface, bearing her Dragonlord safely above. He can breathe, coughing and choking on the water splashing his face as he's pulled through the water.

Merlin doesn't struggle against the grip that the tentacle has around his body. He recognizes that the beast wishes him no harm. He's sensed the relief and joy in the voice when the sea monster called his name. Eventually, they reach land, and Merlin is deposited on the lakeshore, and the tentacle that held him withdraws back into the water. He falls on his side, then jerks himself up to his hands and knees to vomit up the lake water he'd swallowed. He heaves until there is nothing left to bring up. He rests on the ground for a time, just breathing in sweet air, grateful, his eyes closed.

After a time, he opens his eyes again and looks around from his vantage point on the lakeshore. Merlin scrambles to his feet, and tries to take in the scene before him. He looks back at the lake, then around the shoreline. There are no habitations in sight. He's on a barren strip of land, with rough scrub dotting the gravelly surface. In the distance, he can make out more water – the great Sea of Meredor beyond, reaching to the horizon.

He observes the lake. After a few moments, he sees a disturbance, and then a great grey mound emerges, with an unblinking eye, just hovering above the water. The eye blinks, turning gold when it opens again. "Dragonlord," he hears in his head. "I need your help."

"What?. . . Erm . . Who are you?" Merlin stammers in shock.

"_I am a kraken. The witch called me forth from the depths of the lake where I have been waiting for you to come. Her calling commanded me to steal the offering from the boat that would be sent out onto the lake_."

"Arthur. You were to take Arthur."

"_Yes_," Merlin hears. "_But your touch released me from her thrall. And now you can release me from this prison_." The head dips below the water, to resurface after a moment.

"How can I do that?" Merlin asks, staring at the golden eye, now steadily gazing at him.

"_Open a pathway to the ocean_."

"Yeah, right." Merlin gapes at the beast, shaking his head in denial.

"_You can do it_!"

Merlin starts to pace on the shore, frowning, glancing back and forth between the lake and the wide ocean he can see in the distance. "No, I don't think so."

"_Dragonlord_! _YOU ARE EMRYS!"_ the voice thunders in his head. "_Your magic has the power to command the land and sea. SUMMON IT! And set me free!"_

Merlin jolts. He takes a deep breath, nods once, and starts to stride along the strip of land separating the two bodies of water, sending tendrils of magic deep into the earth beneath his feet to find its weaknesses. After some distance he turns back to walk more slowly, his waterlogged boots squelching uncomfortably. The kraken follows alongside in the lake, gliding through the water, watching him, only her eye and the top of her head visible above the water. Then Merlin stops. "Here," he whispers.

He kneels on the ground facing away from the lake, his golden eyes focused on the distant sea. He rubs his hands together, creating heat from the friction. Carefully, avoiding the pebbles, he places his palms on the earth. He sends the power of his magic through his hands into the earth, and he starts to tremble from its power. The vibrations loosen the packed earth, opening up spaces between and among the particles of earth and stone and sand. He feels the tidal pull of the distant sea, and he summons the water to penetrate deep within the earth to wash over the strip of land separating the lake from the sea. He thinks about the shallow narrow channel he wants created, seeking how the water can wash away the soil and gravel. The wave recedes, pulling grass and stones in its retreat from the land. Again and again it climbs onto the isthmus, over the weakening vibrating earth, rushing and ebbing, relentless in its power to carve out the pathway Merlin demands.

Still kneeling with one hand on the ground, Merlin reaches out with the other hand to stretch it back to the lake, spreading his fingers wide to feel the clear water of the lake. When his magic touches it and gathers it into his hand, he closes his fist and _pulls_. He pulls water from the lake to meet the water of the sea, over and through the channel he's creating. Suddenly the earth beneath Merlin collapses and the water he pulls from the lake rushes over the land to meet the sea, carrying the kraken over the spit of land through the channel in the swiftly moving current.

Merlin is sucked into the water as well when it washes the land away to form the channel beneath his knees, his hands releasing from the earth. He tumbles, turning over sideways as the lake water pulses over the land, scraping against the land as he's pulled across. He frees the lake from his grasp and the torrent subsides. He reaches the sea, thrusting his head above the waves to gasp for air when the waters stabilize, lake and sea separate once more.

Frantically, he whips his head around to see how far he is from the land, pumping his hands and feet to keep afloat. He feels a gentle push against his arm, just beneath the surface of the water, and sees the grey flesh of the kraken's tentacle. He grabs hold of it, and is pushed inland until his feet scrape bottom, and he can finally stand. When he releases the arm, the great beast pulls slowly away.

Merlin can feel her joy and gratitude as the kraken swims eagerly out to sea. In a final farewell, she launches herself from the sea to leap upward into the air, and with a twist dive back down into the depths of the ocean. Merlin smiles as he pushes his way through the water, half walking, half swimming back to the shore, to make landfall. Finally he gets there, and collapses on the pebbled beach of the lakeshore, safely home in the Kingdom of Camelot.

He lies there, catching his breath as he looks up into the clouds chasing across the sky. After a few minutes, he sits up and looks around, seeing hills in the distance alongside the lake. He closes his eyes, visualizing in his mind the map that Arthur had shown Mordred and Aurelius of the western shore of the lake. Standing slowly, he turns until he faces north. When he opens his eyes again, he can see the path he must follow. He starts to walk.

xXx

At a sudden surge in the water, Arthur tumbles backward in the boat, pulling the paddle with him. The small vessel is pulled within the grip of the moving current, out of control. Arthur tries to regain his balance and stop the boat's swift passage through the water with his paddle. Then the water's movement slows. Arthur sees a spit of land, jutting out into the lake not too far ahead. If he can just maneuver the boat toward the land, he thinks he might be able to beach it. He gets on his knees and leans over the side of the boat, paddling with all his strength to turn the small craft into the land. When he reaches the spit of land, he is able to grab an overhanging tree branch to beach the boat on the lakeshore, safely home in the Kingdom of Camelot.


	17. Chapter 17

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 17

"It is done," Morgana reassures Gwen in a low voice. The two women, priestess and queen, stand near the bright colors of the windows illuminating the balcony. "He was taken."

"How can you be sure?" Gwen speaks in a near whisper, fearful of the power Morgana appears to wield.

"I saw the two of them launched into a small boat onto the lake to be given to the great sea-monster that dwells within. I had called the creature forth to accept the sacrifice. It could not have failed me."

"What do the knights know? They came back with word that the King was missing."

"Mordred and Aurelius?" Morgana quirks an eyebrow. "They know nothing."

"But won't they insist on returning there? To send inquiries to Lord Ector and to other villages along the lake?"

"And they'll find nothing; an empty boat adrift on the lake, perhaps."

Gwen shakes her head, not convinced. "But . . there will be no proof either way."

"Relax, my Lady. You have the support of the Knights of Camelot to assume the throne until Arthur returns – and he won't, I assure you."

The two women hug a quick goodbye, and Gwen slowly makes her way back to her chambers, as Morgana melts into the shadows. She wants to seek out Mordred. She travels through the dark corridors of the citadel where she's unlikely to meet any of its inhabitants who would know her. She'd memorized the map of the siege tunnels that Agravaine had stolen when they prepared for the attack on Camelot with Helios. She feels confident she can move without detection. Eventually, she reaches the Knight's quarters near the armory and asks a passing servant, a young page she doesn't recognize, which room is Sir Mordred's. She knocks on the indicated door.

"Enter," she hears Mordred call through the closed door. She opens it, and slips inside, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it. "Morgana! What . . .?"

"Hello, Mordred." She smiles. "I hear that you had to deliver bad news to the Queen."

Mordred rises from his chair, holding his book in his hand. He sets it down on the table near his chair by the fire and faces her. "He's missing; we don't know if he's dead. We'll send out search parties. We'll find him."

"So loyal, so devoted to a man who would see you killed if he knew what you were," Morgana sneers.

Mordred shakes his head in denial of her words. "He may yet change. I believe there is goodness in him."

"Well, it doesn't matter now. He'll never be found." She laughs, shrugging.

"Is this your work, Morgana? Did you kill him?"

"Don't be so crass, Mordred. I merely set events in motion, and gave a small nudge. Do not forget what we must fight for - freedom from fear and prejudice."

"He doesn't deserve this fate."

"You couldn't reason with a man like Arthur. Let's just say he's just found that out to his cost." She steps forward, reaching out her hand to him. "Join with me, and we'll rule all Camelot."

"Never, Morgana. I'll not betray the King." He bats her hand aside.

She looks down at it, then up at his face. "You will see."

Without another word, she slips out of the room as quietly as she had come in. Mordred turns around to stare at the fire, unseeing. He doesn't know what to do. He cannot give up hope that Arthur will have survived whatever mischief Morgana attempted.

xXx

The horse's hooves beat out a rapid rhythm as Arthur spurs it across the wooden planks of the drawbridge, drawing his new wool cloak tighter around him in the chill of the late afternoon. He's ridden hard for two days to reach Lord Ector's keep from the shore of the lake where he'd beached the small boat. He's eager to arrive so he can send a messenger back to Guinevere in Camelot to let her know he's all right. He's certain that she must be worried after Aurelius and Mordred no doubt told her of his disappearance in the night on the other shore of the lake.

He'd staggered out of the boat on the spit of land that jutted out into the lake, and walked its length in a daze, hungry and thirsty. He'd reached a small fishing village several leagues from where he'd landed and was able to ascertain where he was. Relief flooded him when he was told that he was in the Kingdom of Camelot. He didn't reveal his identity to the villagers, but they recognized that he was a person of importance, given the gold he carried in his belt pouch. He was glad that he'd learned his lesson when his small travel pack with all of his gold had nearly been stolen during the night from the floor beneath his bed while he slept in the inn at Enged. He and Merlin had been seeking the Dragonlord to beg his help in commanding the dragon to cease its attacks on Camelot. His own quick reflexes had enabled him to catch the thief in the act. Since then, he'd always carried some gold in a small pouch affixed to his belt. This time, he had more than enough to buy a meal and a bed for the night, as well as a new warm cloak to ward off the growing chill of the season. He'd let a horse from the stables, promising to make arrangements for its return when he reached his destination. The innkeeper had a map of the area that he allowed Arthur to copy so he could find his way. It proved to be accurate, and Arthur had made good speed on his journey.

When the guards accost him at the gate after crossing the drawbridge, his bearing and demeanor convince them that they should treat him with respect. He dismounts, handing off the reins to one of the guards, with an offhand "see to the horse."

They invite him into the guardhouse to sit and wait while they send word to the chamberlain that Arthur of Camelot is at the gate. His wait is a short one, as the chamberlain comes rushing up the stairs to the small room where Arthur waits, resting with a drink of water given to him from the guards to quench his thirst from a long and dusty ride.

"Your Majesty." The chamberlain bows, as the guards look on astonished before bowing to the rider themselves. "I am so sorry you've been kept waiting. I'm Robert, Lord Ector's steward," he says, slightly out of breath from the run to the guardhouse. He's a man who has clearly enjoyed the bounty of Ector's table, his round face topped by curly blond hair. "Please, if you come with me, I'll show you to your chambers. Lord Ector is away from home today, seeing to a matter with one of his tenant farmers. He should be back by nightfall. We expected you days ago, Sire. He'll be so relieved to see that you've arrived safely."

"Thank you, um, Robert," Arthur smiles, trying to stem the tide of the steward's nervous chatter that continues as they make their way into the main section of Ector's home.

Later that evening, after Arthur had washed the dust from his face and hands, and the servant assigned to attend had brushed his clothing, he finds his way easily to the main hall of the keep for dinner with Lord Ector and his retainers. He feels welcome in the home where he had squired as a youth, and enjoys the warmth of familiarity. Robert greets him at the door, and escorts him to the empty seat at the high table, next to Lord Ector.

Ector, his wife and a slim young woman rise from their chairs to welcome the King to their home. He bows deeply to his King. "Your Majesty. You are most welcome."

Lord Ector had exonerated Arthur for taking Cai's life in that ill-fated sword duel over the King's serving boy, aware of his son's duplicity. Cai had challenged the King to the fight, and then cheated pulling out a knife in an attempt to win. The boy had intervened and saved the King, and was wounded himself. Cai was killed by the King's blade in response to the attack. As a Knight, Ector understands the Knight's Code and its precepts of honor and loyalty. Cai had violated these when he attacked the King. Arthur had merely defended himself. He grieved for the loss of his son, but he understood. Lady Elinor, his wife, could not yet find it in her heart to forgive. Her face is pinched, her mouth in a thin line as she curtsies with barest politeness to Arthur.

"And you must remember our daughter, Elspeth," Ector introduces with pride a dark-haired girl of about sixteen years who curtsies gracefully to the King. "It is she I wish to name as my heir."


	18. Chapter 18

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 18

After the meal and entertainment in Lord Ector's great hall – a traveling bard regaled them with tales and songs of great deeds and ladies in love – Arthur found himself alone in the guest chambers, sitting in an uncomfortable chair near the fire. He thinks about Ector's request to have his daughter named his heir. Under the customs of primogeniture, the rights to Ector's title and lands would fall to the next living male relative, since Ector's only son, Sir Cai, was dead.

Arthur thinks back to the circumstances of Cai's death* and his own part in it. Cai had challenged Arthur to a sword fight, by the knight's rules to first blood. But when Arthur drew first blood upon a superficial wound, Cai refused to give up the fight. He attacked Arthur wielding sword and knife with a ferocity driven by the passion of his own internal demons. Merlin's interference deflected Cai's knife, and Arthur in defending himself dealt the knight a mortal blow. Cai's father watched the events unfold and deeply mourned the death of his son, but no doubt feeling guilt and shame as well, Arthur feels, at the circumstances of Cai's betrayal.

When Lord Ector made his request to Arthur about allowing his daughter to inherit the land and title that would have gone to Cai had he lived, Arthur was taken by surprise. It was indeed an unusual request. By tradition, a woman couldn't inherit the title that Ector held. But the more Arthur thought about it, staring into the fire, he could see no reason why she should not. He feels that it is fair that a female child should the same rights as a male. Women too can make fair and just rulers. Furthermore, Ector clearly loved and respected his daughter to wish to pass it on to her rather than a distant relative, who didn't know the land and its people.

Arthur does admit to himself that his own remorse over taking Cai's life plays a part in his decision, but ultimately he feels it is the right thing to do. At a quiet knock on his door, Arthur raises his gaze from the flames nearby. "Come in," he commands.

The servant Ector had instructed to tend to his needs pokes his head in. He bobs his head as he enters and walks directly over to the table at the foot of the bed, placing a pitcher of watered wine and a goblet on its scarred surface, then carefully pouring a cup to hand to Arthur. "Shall I build up the fire, my Lord?" he ventures.

"Yes, please. And would you fetch me some parchment and quills and ink? I wish to send urgent messages back to Camelot."

"Yes, of course, Sire. Right away." The servant kneels to tend the fire.

"Then I'll have it ready to be sent to Camelot in the morning. I trust that a suitable messenger can be found to ride out tomorrow?"

"Yes, my Lord. I will speak to Robert."

As the servant busies himself with his tasks, Arthur thinks of what he will say in his letters to Sir Lionel and to Guinevere. He thinks of Camelot with a fierce longing to be home again, to see his Queen. But he cannot leave here just yet. He will ask Ector to send out inquiries to see if Merlin has been seen on this side of the lake. Perhaps Merlin managed to escape from the grip of the great sea creature the snatched him from the boat. He doesn't have much hope, but Merlin has often surprised him with his resourcefulness and resilience. Even though he can appreciate the efficiency with which Ector's servants work, he admits to himself – and would do so only to himself – that he misses Merlin.

xXx

Merlin shows up at Ector's manor house several days later. Like Arthur, he is detained by the guard at the gatehouse overlooking the drawbridge, although for him the chamberlain does not come running at the mention of his name. The lord will see petitioners on the morrow, he's told. In the meantime, would the young man please leave now and wait in the nearby town?

"But Lord Ector will want to see me. I'm King Arthur's personal servant," Merlin protests.

"Yeah, and I'm the royal footman to the Queen," the guard scoffs. "You can make your plea tomorrow. Get on with yer now." The guard gives him a shooing motion, and turns away.

"Please, just tell me if the King is here." Merlin crosses his arms, his eyes anxious, stubbornly standing his ground in the doorway, waiting for the answer. The guard turns back to look at him.

"He is that. But I'm not sure he'll want to see the likes of you." The guard takes in Merlin's dirty face with its scruffy dark beard and worn clothing, and gives him a firm shove in the middle of his chest out of the room before closing the door to the guardhouse.

Unlike Arthur, Merlin had no gold in a pouch to purchase food or a bed at the tavern. He's slept under the stars and eaten what food he could find on the walk to Lord Ector's; he's hungry and tired and cold. But now that he knows that Arthur made it safely across the lake, he feels nothing but relief. He turns away from the guardhouse, side stepping for a cart that is crossing the wooden drawbridge to pass through the gate. He walks back to the town, just over the hill to the east.

He slips into the public stables, murmuring soothing words to the horses that became restive at the intrusion. He climbs the ladder at the rear that is propped against the storage platform, and beds down in the fragrant straw in the dark far corner. Tomorrow he'll return to the manor house.

A kick to his ribs startles him awake. "Who are you?" a rough voice demands.

"Erm, I'm nobody." Merlin blinks up at the burly man looming over him in the dim light of the hayloft.

"And you think that you can just take up lodging in my stables?"

Merlin scrambles to his feet. "I can work to pay for the night. I've worked in stables before."

"Where?"

"In Camelot's royal stables."

The stable master chortles and regards Merlin skeptically. "Right. I think I'll take you to the magistrate instead. He can decide the punishment for vagrancy."

"No! Please. I can work. Anything! It was only the one night. I need to get to the keep to see Lord Ector today."

"And why would a nobody like you want to see the Lord?"

"I'm the King's personal servant. He'll want to see me."

The stable master laughs out loud at this outrageous assertion by the scrawny young man in dirty rags. "Well, you've certainly provided entertainment. Down you get. You can muck out the horses." He sneers at Merlin. "Then we'll see what to do with you."

Merlin scratches at the scruff on his jaw with his index finger. "Do you think I could have something to eat?"

"Don't push it, boy. Or do you want to go straight to the magistrate?"

xXx

In the wash of brilliant sunshine from the windows at the long side of the main chamber of Lord Ector's keep, the earl takes his seat in the chair at the center of the table, and turns with a welcoming gesture to Arthur who had walked alongside him into the room. Lady Elinor and her daughter, Elspeth, follow him inside the room and move to the table, which faces the length of the room. The mother is smiling broadly at Arthur, while the daughter looks solemn and ready to sit at her father's side to hear petitions from their people. Both were joyful at learning of the King's decision to permit the conveyance of Lord Ector's lands and title to his daughter upon his death when he informed them of it earlier that morning in the solar.

The earl and his family are taking their seats in anticipation of sitting in judgment on disputes and hearing pleas from the residents of the town and demesne at large. Arthur joins them at the high table in a chair off to the side to observe. He clears his throat. "Ector," he says.

"Sire?"

"If you wish, you may inform your people of your daughter's inheritance."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Ector smiles. "I must confess that I didn't know how you would respond to our request."

Arthur looks at the three of them. "I admit it was unusual, but I do understand your need to settle your affairs as you desire. When I return to Camelot, I'll have Geoffrey of Monmouth draw up the papers. Then, you are welcome to appear before the court for a ceremony to announce your daughter's inheritance and have her pledge fealty to the Kingdom." He's pleased for the family, that they've found a way to pass on Lord Ector's title and lands to the one person who will love and preserve them.

As Lord Ector stands at the high table to make his announcement, Arthur looks around at the people filling the hall to assemble in the center of the room in front of Ector's table, not really seeing them. He listens to Ector's speech, and nods with a smile to acknowledge his introduction and the cheers of the audience.

Ector resumes his seat and picks up a paper from the table in front of him. "Magistrate," he says, looking up. "Bring forward your first cases."

The magistrate steps into the center of the room, gesturing to the bailiff at the door to bring in the accused. He enters the room with two prisoners. The first, a sandy-haired young woman in a dark blue dress with green kirtle, follows quietly, eyes downcast, hands bound in front. The other is dressed in filthy tunic and trousers that hang on his too-thin frame. He's bound and gagged, struggling with the bailiff who drags him in by the arm.

"Of what crimes are these two accused?" Lord Ector asks.

The magistrate stands next to the young woman, pointing at her accusingly. "She was seen using magic."

There is a gasp from the crowd. Lord Ector casts anxious eyes to the King, but Arthur is gaping in disbelief at the other prisoner, his face white with shock.

Elspeth glances over at her father, who sits immobilized, uncertain how to respond before the King. He knows well the laws in Camelot on magic, but has no wish to put to death anyone who practices magic for harmless purposes. He feels trapped between his own gentle views and the harsh laws that King Uther had long enforced. He knows not what Arthur would say.

After a moment of silence, Elspeth rises and walks around the table to face the frightened young woman. "What did you do?" she asks gently.

The accused woman raises her head to look at Elspeth, and says with trepidation, knowing that her answer will be a confession of guilt, "a small healing spell with a tincture, my Lady. My little boy was ailing."

"Did it help?"

The smile on the face of the young woman is answer enough. "Yes."

At their quiet words, the other prisoner had ceased his struggling with the bailiff and listens, eyes intent on the two young women.

"Let her go," Elspeth tells the bailiff. "Her night in a cell away from her sick child was punishment enough."

The magistrate looks to Lord Ector for confirmation. At his nod, he releases the girl. She curtsies and flees.

"And the other one?" Ector asks.

"He's a vagrant, my Lord. The stable master found him asleep in the hayloft."

"Why is he gagged?"

"He's a mouthy one, he is. Only way to shut him up." The prisoner looks up at the high table, and starts making frantic noises, trying to break free from the bailiff's grip.

"Remove the gag," Ector orders the magistrate, who hurries to comply. "I'll hear his story."

"Merlin! I thought you were dead!" Arthur blurts out in shock. "How the hell did you get here?"

"I walked," Merlin answers, grinning.

* * *

* A/N: See "His Servant's Master" by Nantasyland for the story.


	19. Chapter 19

The Kraken's Calling

Chapter 19

A few days later, with the horses, supplies and food that Ector had provided, they are ready to mount up and ride home to Camelot City. Merlin had tried to explain how he escaped drowning when the kraken seized him off the boat. Arthur had looked decidedly skeptical at Merlin's assertion "I can hold my breath for a really long time. Really." But, knowing he wouldn't get any kind of a logical explanation out of Merlin, Arthur ultimately let it go.

Now, in a chill early morning drizzle, Merlin stands quietly holding the reins of the two horses while Arthur makes his goodbyes to Ector and his family. He's grateful for clean clothes and warm brown hooded cloak he was given. When Arthur turns to walk to the horses, Ector stares at Merlin, grief and sadness washing over his features as he regards the younger man. Merlin feels sorry for this kind and honorable man who lost his son so violently over him; he bows his head in acknowledgement of Ector's sorrow, and startles when Arthur snatches his horse's reins from his hand.

Arthur puts his left foot in the stirrup and vaults onto his horse. "Let's go home, Merlin." Arthur takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Home.

Merlin mounts and follows Arthur as he wheels his horse around. The horses clatter over the drawbridge to start the journey home. They ride out over the main road from the manor house, bypassing the town, heading north toward Camelot.

The drizzle lets up later that morning, and they ride on under overcast skies. Merlin broods over the few days of their travel, worrying in his mind how he will tell Arthur what he is convinced has happened to Gwen, knowing it will not be an easy conversation. But he knows that Arthur is in danger. Arthur is in good spirits, eager to reach home and his wife. The wife Merlin recognizes would see him dead. He must warn Arthur of the threat he faces. He must protect him from the very person Arthur trusts above all others.

Merlin and Arthur stop on the last night of their journey to make camp still several hours' ride from Camelot. Merlin busies himself securing the horses and unloading their supplies as Arthur strikes a flint at some tinder trying to get a fire started. Merlin glances over and smirks at Arthur's difficulties in getting the kindling alight. Behind Arthur's back, he releases a spell with a golden blink and the fire catches. Arthur sits back on his haunches in satisfaction, and starts to feed small twigs to the fire. After a few minutes, he has a strong blaze going. Merlin trots off to a nearby stream to refill their water skins.

"One more day," Arthur says as Merlin hands him some bread and cheese from the food he's spread on a cloth on the ground. "We should be home tomorrow, by mid-day. Finally."

Merlin only nods distractedly. They are sitting in front of the fire, their cloaks wrapped tight against the chill of the night, enjoying the fire's warmth on their faces. Merlin drinks some water. His throat feels dry. He knows that this may be his last opportunity to tell Arthur of his suspicions about Gwen's enchantment. "Some fruit?" he manages to say.

The two eat in silence until Arthur finishes and says, "we should get some rest, for an early start tomorrow. It'll be good to be home, eh Merlin?" He sets out his bedroll close to the fire and lies down on it.

"_It's now or never_, _Merlin_ " Merlin thinks to himself. "_You have to do it_."

"Do you trust me, my Lord?" Merlin asks softly, looking at the King over the fire, where he has stretched out ready for sleep.

"Yes. You know I do." Arthur yawns as he adds, "almost as much as I trust Guinevere." He shifts a bit to get more comfortable on his bedroll.

"Ah. That's just it, Sire." Merlin clasps his hands around his knees, swallowing nervously. "I'm afraid that you can't trust Gwen right now."

"You're flirting with treason, Merlin. Consider your words carefully." Arthur's eyes narrow as he picks up his head to look over at Merlin seated across from him on the other side of the small fire.

Merlin twists his fingers together. He knew this wouldn't be easy. "She's . . . ah . . ."

"Out with it, Merlin," Arthur snaps "What about the Queen?"

Arthur's use of her title is a sharp reminder to Merlin of the difficulty of making his accusation. He takes a deep breath. "Arthur, it's not her. You need to understand: she's under an enchantment. She's not the Guinevere you know."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Impatience colors Arthur's voice.

Merlin tries to explain how he and Gaius found the scrap of raw imported silk on a branch near where Gwaine said he was pulled off his horse by Morgana's magic when in pursuit of a figure glimpsed running away in the woods outside Camelot. He's babbling. He knows it. He reins in his words, and concludes, "so, when I saw that the embroidery on the scrap was the same as the border of Gwen's blue cloak, I knew. You were in danger. I ran to your chambers where you had been dining alone with Gwen. I found you there, slumped over the arm of your chair, poisoned."

"What is this, Merlin?" Arthur barks at him. "She accused you of poisoning me, so now you're accusing her?"

"It's not like that. Arthur. Please listen."

"Think before you speak, Merlin," Arthur warns.

Merlin takes another deep breath. "Why is it that she found those vials of poison so easily?"

"Merlin, that doesn't prove anything." Arthur shakes his head, and sets it back down on his bedroll. "Go to sleep, Merlin. It's late."

"I wasn't with a girl," Merlin blurts out.

"What?" Arthur picks his head up again and turns it to look at Merlin, leaning back on his elbows.

"That time when I was missing. Remember when the Sarum of Amata was in Camelot? There was no girl."

"Okay. So?"

"Gwen lied to you."

"Why would she do that?" Arthur sits up to face Merlin across the fire, his face stern.

"To hide what was really going on." Merlin holds up his hand when he senses Arthur's ready protest. "I was lured into the Valley of the Fallen Kings and poisoned by Morgana. I . . . erm . . . overheard a conversation in which it was mentioned that Gwen was planning to kill you."

"So, if you were poisoned, how did you escape?"

"I was helped by that boy, Daegel. The one who . . . erm . . . . stopped the Sarum's man? The assassin's crossbow bolt was meant for you."

"How do you know?"

"I was there."

"These are serious allegations about the Queen, Merlin. Treasonous even. Do you know the penalty for a false accusation?"

"No." Merlin shakes his head.

"Well, neither do I," Arthur admits.

Merlin huffs out an involuntary nervous laugh. "Whatever it is, I will accept the risk of that, Arthur. But you must believe me. You're in danger."

"From my wife? No. I cannot believe this about her without proof, Merlin." Arthur points a finger at him. "You haven't shown me any proof."

"We'll have to set a test. Then you'll see."

"I can't bear to lose her, Merlin."

"If we do nothing, I fear she's already lost to Morgana's power." Merlin stares into the fire while Arthur absorbs what he's said. He looks up at the King when he hears him make an inarticulate noise. "I'm telling the truth, Sire."

"You'd better be sure about this, Merlin." Arthur flings himself back down onto his bedroll, turning on his side to face away from his servant, pulling the cloak around his stiff shoulders.

Merlin stares at his back, relieved at having told the King of Gwen's threat. But now he must find a way to save her before it's too late. Neither man sleeps easy that night.

xXx

Arthur's return to Camelot was triumphant as the hero of Doerham. Gwen smiled broadly as she greeted him on the great staircase near King Bruta's statue, the Knights of Camelot arrayed behind her. Arthur tossed Merlin the reins of his horse to take to the stables with their belongings, and dashed up the few steps to swing his wife in a warm embrace. Merlin watched Gwen, but saw no sign of her enmity to Arthur.

Since then nothing's happened. Every so often as the weeks passed, Arthur would glance at him with a raised eyebrow at Gwen's ordinary behavior. Merlin knows that it's only a matter of time, and worries that Arthur doubts him. And he frets that Gaius still has not found any clue as to how Morgana wove her enchantment. Life goes on.

xXx

After the months of a long cold winter, Merlin relishes the sunshine of a bright and sunny Thursday morning. He's in the lower town collecting pots, has he does every Thursday for Gaius. He's just leaving the apothecary with several containers to be refilled with Gaius's remedies when he sees an old woman make her way slowly through the people thronging the street. He recognizes her immediately. It is Morgana, in her guise as an old woman. Hilda, she had called herself, when she came to Camelot with Mithian last summer in her attempt to lure Arthur to his death at Odin's hand. "_She's here to meet Gwen_," he thinks, his heart racing. It's been months since he'd told Arthur of Gwen's enchantment under Morgana's control, but nothing had happened. Arthur now doubted Merlin's word, he realizes, as time passed and Gwen played the role of a loving and devoted wife. But the King and servant never spoke of it again. Now, it was starting again.

Merlin, his pots clacking softly, keeps the old woman in sight as he follows her through the crowd. At the silk merchant's stall, he spots a flash of blue. Gwen. He trails Morgana and ducks behind a door as close as he can to see Morgana approach the Queen with a small curtsy and a smirk. Gwen reaches out her hand and smiles at the older woman. As he watches from a distance, Merlin mutters a short spell, letting his eyes golden and is rewarded with Morgana's voice, as if she were standing next to him. ". . . time for the quarterly tax levy, is it not?"

"Yes, Arthur mentioned it in council yesterday." At Morgana's encouraging nod, she continues, "Leon will lead the escort to guard the wagons on the road."

"Perfect. My men will lighten their load. We can certainly use the funds."

"What do you need of me?"

"Meet me on night of the full moon at midnight in the Maple grove in the Darkling Woods. Bring the information on the levy route."

xXx

The bright glow of the full moon illuminates the path through the forest. Merlin leads Arthur toward the Maple grove.

"It's not much further," he whispers, glancing back at the King. "We can hide behind those trees, and still have a clear view of the grove."

Arthur narrows his eyes at him. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, Sire," Merlin answers. "I heard them speaking last Thursday in the market."

"You'd better be right, Merlin," Arthur hisses. "If you're wrong, this is high treason against the Queen. You'd be lucky to keep your head."

"I know. But how else can I convince you? She's under Morgana's spell. It's not the Gwen you love." Merlin watches the trees warily. "Shh. Wait. I think I hear someone coming," he whispers. As the two men watch, Morgana's horse approaches and she dismounts in the center of the small grove of maple trees. She paces impatiently, looking up at the moon with a frown.

The men wait silently, hidden behind the trees just outside the grove. A rustling of branches on the path on the other side of the clearing draws their attention and they see Gwen hurrying to make her way to meet Morgana.

"You're late." Morgana snaps, as Gwen approaches.

"I'm sorry." Gwen is breathless from her haste.

"Was there a problem?"

"Nothing I could not handle."

Morgana frowns at her. "Did you get what I asked for?"

Guinevere shows her a scroll, moving it between her hands.

"It wasn't easy. It details the route the levy collection will take, the names of the knights, their arms, and the day they depart." She holds the scroll out with a smile to give it to the other woman. Morgana snatches it from her hand.

"You've done well, Gwen."

From his hiding place behind the tree, Arthur watches Guinevere talk with Morgana. His face is grim with disbelief and shock. Silently and carefully, he unsheathes his sword, but Merlin stops him with a hissed warning.

"No, my Lord! Morgana's too powerful. Now is not the time."

Arthur stills his hand, holding the sword pointing down, still staring at his wife and sister as they converse. "How could she do this?"

"She's fallen pray to a dark and powerful magic," Merlin says. "It's not Gwen."

"If I lose her, I lose everything." Arthur gives a small shake of his head, gaze fixed forward.

Merlin leans forward, watching Arthur's grief at what he's just witnessed, feeling no joy that he was proven right. "We'll find a way to bring her back, Arthur. I promise."

xXx

And Merlin does bring her back, with his own powerful magic, there in the cold still waters of the Cauldron of Arienrhod, with Arthur's eyes only on Guinevere as the white light of the goddess encompasses her, unaware of the true miracle wrought by his friend to save his Queen. But that's a story better told by others.

END


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